


you know i talk too much

by nemaria



Series: sweet talks [1]
Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Explicit Sexual Content, Fluff and Smut, Friends to Lovers, M/M, Masturbation, Mention of alcohol, Mutual Pining, Oral Sex, Sex Toys, Voice Kink, and they were ROOMMATES, background Dorogrid, background anniemercie, background glennst, bc sylvain's family sucks, glenn is alive in this au!, hints of dimiclaude, tw: abuse
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-10
Updated: 2020-08-29
Packaged: 2021-03-04 19:15:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 23,789
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25191538
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nemaria/pseuds/nemaria
Summary: Sylvain’s voice is rough and deep, like he just woke up when he called. It sends a shiver down Felix’s spine – Sylvain’s voice is always nice when he’s being sincere, but hearing it like this feels illicit somehow. Like a stolen glimpse of waking up next to him.Or, 5 times Felix secretly appreciates Sylvain’s voice + 1 time it’s not so secret.
Relationships: Felix Hugo Fraldarius/Sylvain Jose Gautier
Series: sweet talks [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1934110
Comments: 116
Kudos: 303





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> sylvix are really so powerful they got me to post fic publicly for the first time ever...my boys 😭
> 
> thanks so much to the lovely [Magpie](https://archiveofourown.org/users/MagpieCrown) for betaing this! go check out their [amazing artworks on twitter](https://twitter.com/royalcorvids) too!!

Felix enjoys his job, he really does.

He’s unexpectedly good at being a lawyer, and most days he comes home tired but satisfied with his results. Sure, the research can be long and exhausting, but Felix’s thoroughness has always paid off at trial, and his sharp way of speaking and concise explanations are a boon in the courtroom too. So yes, he’s usually excellent at his job, and proud of it. 

Today, though, is shaping up to be a complete disaster. 

It’s lunchtime. Felix should be using the hour that court is adjourned to go over his arguments again, but his mind cannot stop looping over all the things that have gone wrong today. Among said things are: 

  1. Waking up groggy and more tired than usual due to a very…distracting…dream,
  2. Promptly tripping over one of his cats in the hallway,
  3. Flying face first into the very naked chest of his roommate and best friend, Sylvain (coincidentally also the subject of said dream),
  4. Blushing so hard that his forehead (still resting on Sylvain’s chest due to temporary lust-induced paralysis) was warm enough for Sylvain to comment that Felix seemed feverish, and was he feeling alright?
  5. Practically running away from Sylvain and into the shower to avoid having to answer that question at all costs,
  6. Spacing out so much during said shower that he forgot to use conditioner, resulting in extremely unprofessional frizz on a trial day,
  7. Missing the train that would have gotten him to the courthouse early because he stayed too long at the coffee shop letting Annette distract him from the Sylvain issues,
  8. Spilling said coffee on himself while on the next train,
  9. Unintentionally scaring the tiny purple-haired girl next to him on the train (presumably with the look on his face after the coffee spill), causing her to scream and run away,
  10. Having to use the dreaded “backup suit” which smelled funky, probably hadn’t been cleaned in months or years, and was on the verge of being too tight to comfortably breathe in,
  11. Forgetting the Infinite Bag of Cables that was usually glued to him on trial days,
  12. And giving his opening statement much more aggressively than usual due to massively compounding irritation at all of the above mistakes, visibly annoying the judge.



After a whispered dressing-down from Lysithea on the importance of keeping his cool today, Felix let her take over the first round of arguments, and they managed to make it through the first half of the trial without further incident. It wasn’t going particularly well, especially with all the tech issues resulting from the lack of cables, but they’d turned things around in the second half of the day before. 

Unfortunately, Felix is still extremely uncomfortable and looks an absolute mess with his frizzy hair and the terrible too-tight suit, but there’s not much he can do about that with only an hour recess. 

He did at least manage to grab his lunch before his hasty departure this morning, and there’s a little bag of beef jerky underneath his sandwich that he knows he hadn’t packed himself. His cheeks grow warm without his permission, even though he knows Sylvain didn’t mean anything by it. He’s just being a good friend like he is to everyone. 

Turning on his phone for the first time since that morning, Felix is greeted with several texts and a voicemail. The voicemail was there when he woke up, he remembers, but today has been such a whirlwind he hasn’t had time to listen to it.

> Dimitri (7:13am): Good luck today! 🤞⚖️

> Sylvain (7:37am): since u never answered my ? im going to assume ur not dying of a fever
> 
> Sylvain (7:38am): text me when u get this though ok? just so i know u didn’t pass out in court or something

> Lysithea (8:26am): Hope you brought the cables, because the court sure didn’t provide any. If you’re not almost here you better hurry up.

> Ashe (10:03am): (a picture of two cats curled up together from the shelter where he works - it’s very cute, and Felix saves it to his phone)

> Ingrid (11:58am): are you free for lunch this weekend? Dorothea and I are out of town for a week starting Monday, it’d be great to see you before then. Sylvain already said he’d be there ;) Dimitri too

Felix leaves all the texts unanswered for now, especially Ingrid’s with the infuriating winky face, and switches to the voicemail app. Surprisingly, it’s from Sylvain, despite the ridiculously early time stamp. 

> (5:41am) “Hey Fe. Wanted to say good luck today, not that you need it! I know you have your phone off because of trial and you probably won’t get this until it’s over, but the thought still counts, yeah? I’ll make one of your faves for dinner and we can celebrate. See you later, or soon, in your time, haha!”

Sylvain’s voice is rough and deep, like he just woke up when he called. It sends a shiver down Felix’s spine – Sylvain’s voice is always nice when he’s being sincere, but hearing it like this feels illicit somehow. Like a stolen glimpse of waking up next to him. 

On that note…why was Sylvain up so early? Most nights he stays up late working on a project – either for his editing job or his personal writing and art – or, rarely these days, hanging out at the bar with Dorothea while she works. He’s usually never awake before Felix leaves.

Felix briefly entertains the fantasy that he set an early alarm just to leave Felix a message for later, but quickly dismisses it. Sylvain must have had something to do, otherwise he’d have gone back to bed…and he wouldn’t have been awake and walking around half naked when Felix woke up. 

At that thought, Felix feels a fresh wave of embarrassment over the events of this morning.

It’s not like seeing Sylvain shirtless is a rarity at their apartment. In fact, he runs so warm that if he’s not in some state of undress or another there’s a good chance he’s getting sick. 

It’s just different to have a faceful of your best friend’s chest when you’d just been dreaming of biting marks into it, loving how he sounds as he moans shamelessly into your ear, gasping your name when you slide down to take his cock down your throat all at once. 

And, as Annette said this morning in her usual astute extrapolation of Felix’s feelings, it’s different when you’ve been in love with said friend for most of your life, and he most definitely does not feel the same way, so he cannot, under any circumstances, find out about your feelings or everything will be ruined.

Felix definitely does not want things to be ruined.

There’s a reason hardly anyone else has put up with him for this long, but Sylvain’s never shown signs of truly being tired of him. Even when they fight, it’s not for long these days.

It seems forever ago now, when Felix had been worried that Sylvain moving in might spell the end of their friendship if things went awry. 

It wasn’t a planned decision – Sylvain had just showed up at his door one night with a black eye and a duffel bag, looking exhausted. He didn’t have to say a word for Felix to know what had happened. 

Felix took off work the next day, called Dimitri and Ingrid as backup, and stormed Antoine Gautier’s house for the rest of Sylvain’s things, barely restraining himself from returning the favor of a black eye.

While Felix ransacked the house, Dimitri’s height and aura of rage were enough to keep Sylvain’s father from interfering, and Ingrid was able to quietly persuade his mother to hand over any important documents. By the end of the day, there was no reason Sylvain should ever have to return to that house again. 

Sylvain slept for most of the first week, emerging only for food and to apologize, despite how often Felix insisted there wasn’t anything to apologize for.

What was the point of one man and two cats living in a three-bedroom apartment if not to provide a place for friends to stay when they need it?

While he was secretly pleased that Sylvain had come to him, even though any of his friends would have happily put him up, Felix didn’t know if he could realistically offer a long-term living arrangement without ruining things between them.

He didn’t think he could handle Sylvain bringing his one night stands home with him – but suspected he’d be equally as upset if Sylvain didn’t come home for the night. There was no way to win except to tell Sylvain to stop fucking around, and Felix knew that wasn’t something a friend had the right to ask. 

Thankfully, he never actually had to.

A few weeks in, Sylvain offhandedly mentioned his plans to go on a date over the weekend. Felix’s discomfort (but hopefully not his jealousy) must have been written all over his face, because Sylvain immediately backpedaled, claiming he’d “forgotten” a “work deadline”, and the matter had never been brought up again. 

And Sylvain is actually an excellent roommate on all of the following counts:

  1. Felix’s cats, Spook and Lumi, both love him despite not being very sociable types,
  2. he doesn’t mind Felix’s eccentric decorations (most notably the rack of swords),
  3. he keeps the apartment cleaner than even Felix would,
  4. he buys groceries and does chores without being asked, and
  5. he uses his habit of incessantly texting Felix for good, keeping him up to date on any and all roommate matters. Now Felix gets messages of “picking up litter at the store, do u need anything” alongside Sylvain’s usual inane thoughts, like “what if some animals need glasses but we’ll never know???? :(((” 
  6. …He’s also a decent cook, though that’s just a nice bonus.



Other than being constantly flustered by Sylvain’s presence (which is entirely his own problem), Felix has no complaints.

Of course they fight sometimes – Felix’s sharp tongue and Sylvain’s self-destructive tendencies practically ensure it – but to Felix’s surprise, seeing each other every day actually makes it easier to work things out.

It’s an entirely different experience from living with Ingrid in college, before his father had “gifted” him this apartment. Not that she was a bad roommate. They just weren’t suited to live together, both too picky about conflicting things, and both too stubborn for arguments to truly be resolved.

With Sylvain…it feels like he’s meant to be here. After only six months of living together, it’s hard for Felix to imagine their apartment without Sylvain in it. 

And as he insisted to Annette this morning, Sylvain discovering how Felix feels about him would almost certainly make things awkward and uncomfortable, which would eventually make Sylvain want to move out. 

Felix definitely does not want him to move out. Possibly ever.

So, Sylvain can absolutely never find out why Felix has been so weird today. 

…To that end, Felix needs to text him – and everyone else – back before he has to go back to court. 

> Dimitri (7:13am): Good luck today! 🤞⚖️ 

> Felix (12:48pm): Thanks. Tell Claude his advice on the case wasn’t bad.

> Sylvain (7:37am): since u never answered my ? im going to assume ur not dying of a fever
> 
> Sylvain (7:38am): text me when u get this though ok? just so i know u didn’t pass out in court or something

> Felix (12:50pm): I’m not dying. Just didn’t sleep well. Thanks for the message and the beef jerky. See you tonight.

> Ingrid (11:58am): are you free for lunch this weekend? Dorothea and I are out of town for a week starting Monday, it’d be great to see you before then. Sylvain already said he’d be there ;) Dimitri too

> Felix (12:53pm): Sure. Just text me time and location.

Sylvain is the only one who responds immediately. 

> Sylvain (12:54pm): see u tonight!!!

The triple exclamation points make Felix smile despite himself. He decides there’s no harm in listening to Sylvain’s voicemail one more time before he heads back inside. 

—

The second half of the trial goes better than the first, but it’s still hard to predict what the results will be. They’ll just have to wait until the judge issues the decision, which is always the easiest part for Felix and the hardest part for his clients. He’s done all he can do for now, and he’s frankly desperate to get home, out of this suit, into the shower, and onto the couch to watch a movie with Sylvain. 

The train ride seemingly takes forever, and Felix isn’t the only one who hates his suit. The other passengers give him a wide berth. He can’t blame them – he’s gotten desensitized to the smell, but he’s sure it’s just as bad as this morning, if not worse since he’s been wearing it all day and it’s really exceptionally tight, no breathing room at all. 

When Felix gets home, Sylvain’s in the kitchen wearing an apron.

…And Felix’s heart almost stops, because from the doorway it looks like he’s wearing nothing _but_ the apron. 

Fortunately, the click of the door closing alerts Sylvain to Felix’s presence, and he steps out from behind the counter as he moves to greet Felix, revealing that he is at least wearing pants. 

Not so fortunately, Sylvain has noticed the state Felix is in and appears to be frozen in place, ogling at him with his mouth hanging slightly open. 

“Felix – that suit – it’s – that isn’t one of your regular ones, right? You look…I mean…wow,” Sylvain says after a long moment. His face is flushed from cooking over the stove. 

Well. Felix knew he was a mess, but if he was making Sylvain speechless it must be worse than he thought. “I know, it’s ridiculous and I look terrible. I had to borrow it after I spilled coffee on my blue one this morning,” he says. 

Sylvain looks taken aback. “No, Fe, that’s not what I – ugh, never mind. I’m just glad you’re home.” He’s unfrozen now, angling for a hug, which – absolutely not, not when Felix smells this bad. 

“No hugs,” he says, sidestepping Sylvain’s grabby hands. “I need to take a shower – can dinner wait a bit?”

“Yeah, it’s still got to cook for a while longer,” Sylvain says, ducking back to the kitchen to check the timer. “Twenty-three minutes if you want it hot and fresh.” He grins, waggling his eyebrows and pulling a tiny smile from Felix. “Sooooo…hugs later?”

“No,” Felix says, not meaning it in the slightest, and swiftly turns in the direction of the bathroom before another damned blush can give him away. 

The shower bleeds away the tension of the day, and this time he makes sure not to forget the conditioner.

As he lets it sit for an extra minute to combat the tangles, he remembers suddenly that Sylvain used to ask to braid his hair, years ago, when Felix was still immensely prickly and more angry about his crush on Sylvain than anything. He understands why Sylvain stopped asking, but still. He probably wouldn’t say no now, if Sylvain asked. 

But that’s just as much a fantasy as waking up next to him in the mornings – best not to think of it when Sylvain is waiting for him in the kitchen now. 

They settle in on the couch for an episode of the sci-fi show they’ve been watching together, and Felix plops his feet in Sylvain’s lap, an apology for the earlier hug denial. 

The curry is extremely delicious and very spicy – Felix thinks maybe a little too spicy for Sylvain, as his face is red the whole time they eat. Sylvain asks how the trial went, and Felix asks him about his day in turn, and they stay up talking until Felix is nodding off on the couch, most of the length of his legs now on top of Sylvain’s. 

All in all, it’s almost a perfect Friday night, and Felix tries to tell Sylvain so as they slouch off to their respective rooms. “Sylvain…”

“Yes, sleepyhead?”

Felix wants to scoff at the endearment, but Sylvain sounds so soft he can’t bring himself to ruin the moment. 

“This…was good. Thanks,” he mumbles instead. It’s not enough, but he doesn’t know how to say more without saying too much.

“Aww, glad you liked it,” Sylvain says, evidently thinking Felix meant just the curry. “I made it extra spicy just for you.”

“No, not the curry. I mean – I liked the curry – but…everything else, too.” 

Sylvain looks baffled. Felix must be too tired to make any sense, because there’s suddenly a warm arm around his shoulders, and Sylvain is steering him into his room and onto his bed. “You had a long day, huh? Get some sleep. I’m gonna tell Ingrid we should do lunch on Sunday instead, so sleep in for once, okay?”

Felix hums in acknowledgement.

“G’night, Fe. Sweet dreams.”

And Felix does indeed have sweet dreams. 

—

When he wakes, it’s to the feeling of Sylvain’s lips on his neck, the line of Sylvain’s body pressed up against his back and his cock pressing deliciously into his ass. 

“Morning, Felix,” Sylvain says, voice all rumbly and rough with sleep. Fuck, it’s even hotter to hear him like this when he’s breathing the words right into Felix’s ear.

He palms Felix’s cock through his boxers and lazily grinds against him, and the combination of Sylvain’s voice and his touch have Felix hard and aching though he’s hardly even awake yet. 

He rolls over to express his appreciation with a kiss, pulling Sylvain flush against him again. The broken moan Sylvain makes when Felix not-so-gently bites at his lip and pulls is…Goddess, it’s the hottest thing Felix has ever heard. 

Sylvain is so vocal, and Felix can’t get enough of it.

Every touch draws out a different noise or gasp of Felix’s name, and he’s determined to hear them all, pressing his lips and hands to every inch of Sylvain’s skin.

His voice is like a live wire straight to Felix’s dick – he’s already so close to coming and Sylvain has hardly done anything but writhe under his touch.

Sylvain needs to catch up. Felix wraps a hand around him, delighting in how Sylvain’s hips fly up and he nearly shouts, and Felix feels…a sudden heavy pressure on his chest?

The pressure shifts and turns into four, sharper pressure points, and Felix is pulled out of sleep and into reality with a gasp. 

Lumi is standing on his chest. Now that he’s awake, she pushes her face up against his chin, purring softly, unbothered by his heaving breaths as he recovers from the dream. 

This is the most vivid one he’s had yet….damn that voicemail for getting him so fixated on Sylvain’s voice.

He probably would have come in his sleep if Lumi hadn’t woken him, and he doesn’t know whether to be irritated at the interruption or grateful she saved him from cleaning up the mess. 

It’s only 7am when Felix checks the time. He’s hardly slept in at all, and Lumi apparently woke him for cuddles, not food, so it should be fine to stay in bed a while longer.

Spook isn’t in his room, so he’s probably with Sylvain. Felix uncharitably hopes Spook will stand on Sylvain’s chest and give him a similar rude awakening. It’s only fair since Sylvain _is_ the cause of his predicament, after all. 

Sylvain probably won’t be up until 10, and Felix is feeling sleepy again now that his breathing has evened out and Lumi has settled herself on his chest. Might as well go back to sleep. If he’s lucky, maybe he’ll get a sequel to that dream. 

—

The sound of rain on the windows wakes Felix up gradually. No run today, he supposes. If it was only sprinkling he wouldn’t mind, but it sounds like it’s coming down hard enough that he’d be instantly drenched just stepping out the door. 

Stretching, he checks the time on his phone, and shit, it’s already almost noon. He really must have been tired from yesterday. There’s a text from Ingrid confirming their lunch meetup tomorrow, and he shoots her a quick thumbs up before getting dressed. 

There’s warm coffee waiting for him in the kitchen, and an abandoned mug on the counter, still full to the brim. Felix snorts in amusement. Sylvain must have made it hours ago, judging by how cold it is, and then gotten distracted and forgotten about it. He dumps it down the drain – microwaving it would only make it disgusting – and sets about fixing two fresh mugs: black with a splash of cream for himself, and Sylvain’s preferred combination of almost more milk than coffee and an ungodly amount of sugar.

Sylvain is splayed over the couch, glasses low on his nose, and absolutely engrossed in the manuscript he’s reading. The coffee mug clinks against the glass of the side table as Felix sets it down – apparently loud enough to startle him, because he jumps, letting out an undignified squawk. 

“Ack! Felix! I didn’t know you were up,” he exclaims, scrambling to collect the papers scattered in his surprise. 

Felix bends down to help. “Just woke up actually.” 

The pages are thankfully numbered, so Felix doesn’t feel too bad for startling him – instead, he takes this moment of distraction to fully appreciate how cute Sylvain is like this. 

Between the glasses, bedhead, faint scruff on his chin, and the rumpled pajamas Felix had gifted him years ago, he’s the picture of lazy domesticity.

Felix can easily imagine himself in an alternate timeline – one where he’d be allowed to pull Sylvain close, slide his hands up under his shirt, and drop them both back on the sofa. Maybe Sylvain would even read aloud to him as they cuddle. 

“Everything okay?”

Ugh, he’s been staring too long. “You must be enjoying this one if I scared you so easily,” Felix says, hoping it’s enough to dodge the question. 

Sylvain’s eyes light up. “Yeah! It’s one of Bernie’s, I always lose track of time when I’m reading her stuff.” He launches into an enthusiastic description of the plot and the suggestions he’s considering, and Felix is content to listen, sipping his coffee to hide a small smile. 

They spend the rest of the afternoon quietly on the couch, Felix playing games on his Switch and Sylvain reading and annotating Bernie’s book, occasionally breaking the comfortable silence to work through his thoughts aloud. 

After a while, Sylvain starts absently brushing his fingers along Felix’s bare calves. Felix can’t tell whether it’s just fidgeting or if Sylvain realizes what he’s doing, but either way it’s driving him crazy, sending shivers of heat down his spine. 

Irritatingly, Felix can’t suppress the blush that blooms over his face and neck as Sylvain’s casual touches get him increasingly flustered. His cheeks feel bright enough to serve as an extra reading lamp – it’s honestly surprising Sylvain hasn’t noticed and started in on the teasing yet.

Felix finally sighs once, loudly, to see if it will get Sylvain to stop, but there’s not even a hint of a reaction. Since moving his legs away is obviously out of the question, Felix supposes he has no choice but to accept his fate.

At least he’d placed a pillow on his lap to prop up the Switch before this infuriatingly arousing nonsense started. 

Spook and Lumi rescue him at their usual 4pm nap time, demanding cuddles from both their humans, and by 5 it’s time for Sylvain to head out for his weekly meeting with Bernie. 

Felix has never met her, but she’s Sylvain’s favorite client, and the only one he meets on weekends these days. If it were anyone else, Felix might start to worry Sylvain was slipping back into bad habits, overworking to compensate for his imagined failures, but he always comes back so energized from his meetings with Bernie that Felix has to like her on principle. She seems to be genuinely good for his mental health.

Bernie’s Saturday meetings are also the only time Felix is alone in the house on weekends, and today he desperately needs those few hours of privacy. 

A run on the treadmill downstairs after Sylvain leaves unfortunately does nothing to calm Felix down. He’s out of breath and panting within five minutes. It’s not from exertion – he’s just so pent up that all the blood in his body has rushed to his cock, and every brush of his clothes against his skin feels like Sylvain’s gentle touches, teasing but never enough. 

There’s nothing for it but to deal with his arousal directly. Heading back upstairs, he locks the door of his bedroom and breathlessly falls into bed, one hand already reaching into his underwear. 

It’s been ages since Felix has touched himself properly. On weeknights he’s usually tired enough to fall asleep immediately, and with Sylvain around he never wants to risk more than something quick and quiet in the shower. 

Something quick and quiet is not going to be enough tonight. 

Stroking himself feels good, his hips jerking up into the touch, but there’s definitely something missing. Felix wants something closer to what he’s been dreaming of.

…He wants to hear Sylvain’s voice. 

Obviously, that’s not possible, so he’ll have to settle for his imagination. Sylvain’s almost definitely good at dirty talk – he probably never shuts up in bed. Felix can’t suppress a moan just thinking about Sylvain saying his name, all coarse and low. 

Unfortunately, Felix himself is terrible at dirty talk. He never has any idea what to say, and he’s blanking on what else Sylvain might say, too. Felix’s name, ‘yes’, ‘please’, ‘harder’ are all good options – but what else?

Vaguely, he remembers Annette mentioning a forum where people uploaded audio of themselves talking. Apparently Mercedes used to post ASMR audios there, and Annette got so flustered telling him about it that he always suspected the other posts on the forum were more explicit than she was expecting. 

It couldn’t hurt to check it out.

Felix still has plenty of time before Sylvain will be home, and he’s feeling weirdly invested in finding a realistic way for imaginary Sylvain to take him apart with his voice. He’ll be embarrassed about it tomorrow, he knows, but right now there’s no blood left in his brain to worry about that.

It takes a while to scroll back far enough through his text conversation with Annette to find the link – it was around three years ago they talked about this, back when he had just started his first job as a lawyer, fresh out of school and stressed beyond belief.

Mercedes’ ASMR posts were supposed to help him relax, Annette had said – they worked miracles for her own stress levels, which she had insisted were higher than Felix’s, so they’d be “sure to fix him right up!”

As he clicks on the link and listens to the first few seconds of Mercedes’ post out of curiosity, he immediately remembers why Annette’s suggestion had definitely _not_ fixed him right up.

Mercedes has a nice enough voice, but it hardly matters because her ASMR technique involves whispering breathily directly into the mic, causing a tickling sensation on the back of Felix’s neck that makes him intensely uncomfortable.

Also, Annette and Mercedes weren’t dating back then, but now that they are, Felix feels like he’s intruding on something that should belong to Annette alone. 

Quickly, he backs out of her post and into the main page of the forum. As he suspected, the majority of the posts seem to be explicit, with a few “calming” posts few and far between. 

Good. Surely there’s something here that will sound enough like Sylvain’s manner of speaking for his purposes.

A large majority of the posts seem to be from women – that won’t help Felix too much in imagining Sylvain, so he starts by filtering those out. It should also sound like something Sylvain could say to _him_ specifically, so he searches for only posts marked “for men” or “for anyone”. The number of results is in the hundreds instead of thousands now, which feels much more manageable. 

There are a couple posts that catch his eye, but he ends up closing out of them quickly – some of the voices are grating, and the others have such terrible acting that Felix thinks even _he_ could do better.

Finally, after going through two full pages of results, he stumbles upon a description that almost seems too perfect. 

> @galoot_of_ill_repute – [M4A] [Script Fill] Will you feel better if you fuck me? [Domestic] [Seduction] [Teasing] [Dirty Talk] [Body Worship] [Moaning] [Anal]
> 
> u had a rough day at work and want to take it out on my ass ;) does it count as a script fill if i wrote the script myself? hope u enjoy ;)

It’s exactly what Felix was looking for. The domestic tag isn’t something he knew he wanted, but it’s sending his pulse through the roof, and the description even sounds like Sylvain could have written it. 

Heart pounding, Felix clicks on the link to the audio. 

It takes a minute to load, and then – 

“Hey guys. I’m back again, thought it’d be fun to read my own script this time.”

Oh holy Sothis, mother of all fucking creatures. 

It sounded like Sylvain’s writing because it _is_ Sylvain. 

Blood thrumming in his ears, Felix almost flings his phone off the bed in his rush to hit the pause button.

His hands are shaking so badly he accidentally clicks an ad, but he hardly hears the too-loud and overly peppy voice that cuts Sylvain off, cheerfully listing potential side effects of some drug or another. 

Fuck. Shit. This is – this is so much more than Felix was expecting. 

He desperately _wants_ to listen to it, his entire body already shaking in anticipation, cock throbbing in time with his rapid pulse.

But can he – should he –?

Part of Felix – the honorable part, probably – is uncomfortable with the idea. Even stumbling upon this by accident feels like an invasion of Sylvain’s privacy. And like Mercedes’ audios, Felix knows this is something that obviously wasn’t meant for him – listening to it would be intruding somewhere he doesn’t belong.

But he’s never been terribly concerned with honor, so it’s not surprising that the larger, hornier part of him is insisting that it’s fair game. Sylvain chose to post it publicly, free for the whole internet to find – he had to know that literally anyone might listen to these audios. Maybe that was even part of the appeal? 

Also the whole point of this forum is to help people relieve tension, right? If being incredibly, unbelievably, devastatingly turned on counts as tension, then Felix is about to snap at any moment. 

Not to mention it would surely be worse for present-day Sylvain to come home and find Felix in this state than it would be for him to get off to past-Sylvain’s voice and just get it out of his system. 

Mind made up, Felix divests himself of all his clothes – he was already sweating through them, taking them off later would just be a distraction from giving Sylvain his full attention – and settles into a comfortable position on the bed. 

Rewinding to the beginning of the audio, he sucks in a shaky breath, sets the phone on the pillow by his head, and presses play. 

“Hey guys. I’m back again, thought it’d be fun to read my own script this time,” Sylvain says into his ear.

“I think I said this in my last post, but I’ve been, uh, super tense lately, haha.” He sounds almost nervous at this, voice wavering a bit, and Felix can picture him sheepishly rubbing the back of his neck. 

“So I wanted to try something new today, which will hopefully help with that, and also be fun for you guys–” Sylvain’s voice fades out for a second, then back in. “–And that is, well I know you can’t see it, but I just got out a shiny new dildo, and I’m gonna fuck myself with it when we get to that part.”

Felix can’t contain a startled moan, hips bucking up into nothing, hands twisting in the sheets.

Imagining Sylvain in this very apartment, only a wall away from Felix, riding a dildo…if he doesn’t keep his hands occupied, away from his body, he’ll absolutely come before Sylvain’s even started.

“Extra realism, yeah?” Sylvain continues, laughing a little breathlessly. “Anyway. I’ll stop rambling now and get to it.”

A brief pause, then there’s the sound of a door opening and closing, and the jangle of keys tossed on a table. 

“Hi, sweetheart!” Sylvain’s voice calls out, a little distant, then closer again as he continues. “C’mere, let me hug you. Mmmm….I missed you, y’know. How was your day?”

Sylvain’s voice is soft and low, the way it gets when he’s serious about what he’s saying.

Felix has never heard him sound this genuine around anyone he’s actually dated, so he must either be an excellent actor, or he’s imagining someone he genuinely cares for as he talks. 

The thought makes Felix’s chest tighten, bitter jealousy threatening to cloud his mood, but he quickly and deliberately dismisses it. Even if this is something he can never have for real, he can at least indulge himself in the fantasy for one night. 

After a brief pause, presumably for the listener to fill in the words of his imaginary partner, Sylvain continues.

“Oof. That sounds rough, hon. Glad it’s Friday so you can have a break from all that…You did seem a little tense just now. What can I do to take your mind off it? I could run a bath, maybe some candles, music…I’ll wash your hair, press my fingers into your scalp, run them down your neck just the way you like it.”

Felix shivers. With how soft his voice has gotten and the way Felix can hear every breath, it feels like Sylvain is directly behind him, murmuring into his ear. 

Having Sylvain’s hands in his hair sounds incredible. Felix can’t help but slide one of his own hands up towards his braid, pulling the tie off and undoing the plaits so his hair is spread loose over the pillow. 

Experimentally, he threads his fingers gently through his hair and down his neck like Sylvain says. It feels nice, relaxing. Definitely something he’d enjoy in a warm bath. 

Another pause for the illusion of conversation, then Sylvain continues. “Hmm, no? Not in the mood for that tonight? Then…how about a massage? Goddess, I’d love to get my hands on you, cover you in oil…mmm…and just press and press into you…”

He’s starting to sound affected, voice getting raspy and breath coming faster. Felix is right there with him.

“…I wanna knead your shoulders, down your back, that perfect dip at the base of your spine. Skip down to your feet and move up and up, take my time rubbing your incredible legs, and then, _then_ I can get a handful of your tight ass. Hah – wanna get you moaning from how deep I massage you before I flip you over…I bet there’s tension in your chest too, your arms and wrists and hands…I wanna take all the time I need to get you limp and slick and boneless beneath me.”

Sylvain’s voice is almost a physical thing, a heat moving over Felix’s body in time with his words.

It’s a good thing the massage isn’t real though, because Felix is sure ‘limp’ would be an understatement if it were. He’d simply dissolve into a puddle of goo on the bed under that much attention from Sylvain’s hands.

Then comes something that Felix is entirely unprepared for – soft kissing sounds, wet and messy, interspersed with little hums – and Felix can almost _feel_ Sylvain’s lips on his neck, soft and sweet and smiling, the vibration of each hum sending hot shivers down every nerve. 

It’s so much, too much, and Felix has to shoot a hand down to his cock, squeezing it firmly around the base with a groan. Already he’s teetering on the edge, close to coming though he’s hardly touched himself.

Goddess, he’s a mess.

“So? How about it?” says Sylvain, after a torturous minute of kissing. 

_Goddess, yes_ , Felix thinks, but apparently Sylvain’s imaginary partner doesn’t feel the same. “Sure, babe, we can save that for tomorrow. I’ll be looking forward to it.” 

Felix can hear the teasing smile in Sylvain’s voice as he continues, pictures the crinkles around Sylvain’s eyes.

“You said you had something else in mind? Care to share?” 

A long silence, then Sylvain gasps, sharp and surprised– “Ahhhh, hah…fuck babe, yes, of course! You know I always want you inside me.” 

There’s a thump, like he’s fallen back against a wall, or thrown his head back in pleasure. “Need you to fuck me – ngh – rough and fast today, take it all out on me…but if you – haaaaah – keep touching me…like that…we’re not gonna make it to the bedroom.”

There’s no way Felix’s dreams or imagination could have conjured anything as incredible as this. 

He can tell Sylvain’s started stroking himself as he talks – the breaks in his voice are completely genuine – and the way he seems to say everything on his mind, yet bites out the words like it’s an effort to focus on them, is the hottest thing Felix has ever heard. 

More kissing sounds, shuffling, and then the unmistakable rustling of sheets as Sylvain falls into bed. 

“Mm, you taste amazing. I could kiss you all day. But you’re so eager for this, aren’t you?” Sylvain says, managing to sound cocky despite the thick arousal in his voice. “Have you been thinking about fucking me all day? I bet you have, your hands are _everywhere_ , fuuuuck, fe– feels amazing.” 

Felix _has_ been thinking about fucking Sylvain, perhaps not all day today, but at the very least once a day, every day, for the past ten years. Sylvain fucking him, too – he isn’t particularly picky. 

“Need your clothes off, wanna touch you too - ohhh fuck, you feel incredible…” 

The sliding sounds of fabric against skin make Felix shiver. He should have waited to undress with Sylvain – all the noises make it so, so easy to imagine Sylvain is actually here with him, and it’s even more vivid when he can follow along with Sylvain’s words.

There’s no way Felix can keep his hands fisted in the sheets a minute longer.

He still desperately wants Sylvain’s hands in his hair, so he slides one of his own up into the thick waves, pulling a little at the roots. His other hand he allows to roam his chest, touching lightly, teasingly, tweaking his nipples and arching up into the touch.

Imagining how different, how much better Sylvain’s bigger hands would feel drags a broken moan from his lungs.

“You’re so beautiful, you know that? I love your blush, love how it spills all the way down your chest and your ears get so red…mmmm, love knowing I’m the one who got you so flustered.” Sylvain’s voice is soft, heartfelt, emotional. Felix finds himself flushing at the clear affection, feeling an urge to turn away even though there’s no one here to witness his embarrassment. 

“If you weren’t feeling so impatient I’d have to insist on kissing – every – single – inch – of that – perfect – skin,” Sylvain continues, punctuating each word with a kiss. 

“Wanna run – my tongue – over all your scars – leave marks – on your collarbone…mmmm, fuck, want you to press on the bruises later and remember you’re all _mine_ .” The last word comes out in a possessive growl, and Felix’s dick _throbs,_ jumping against his belly. 

If he goes another second without touching himself he’s going to explode.

He’s absolutely dripping with pre-come when he finally, finally takes himself in hand. Overwhelmed with sensation, he can’t restrain a gasp, hips flying off the bed and mind blissfully blank of everything but Sylvain. The glide of his palm is so slick and wet that it takes all of his self control to keep himself from fucking up into his hand with abandon. 

“You’re mine, and I’m yours, and I want you to – ngh – fuck me so hard…so hard I’m ruined for anyone’s shape but yours.” 

There’s the click of a cap in the background, the slick, sticky sound of lube, and then Sylvain nearly shouts. “Ahhh – hah, fuck! Just your finger, feels – ngh! So good already…come on, open me up, ohhhh fuck, yes, just like that! Give me another, I want it, please…nghhh, yes!”

Sylvain is panting, losing control as his voice cracks over each moan. If he sounds this wrecked from just his fingers, the noises he makes when he starts fucking himself with the dildo are going to give Felix a heart attack. 

There’s really only so much teasing Felix can take, and he’s rapidly nearing his limit. Thankfully, Sylvain seems to be feeling the same, because – in a turn of events that leaves Felix’s mouth dry – he starts _begging_ to be fucked.

“Oh Goddess you’re stretching me so good, so perfect – ahh! Ah, ah…m’ready, want you now, fuck, please! Need you…need you inside, mmmmfuck! I can’t, need you to fill me up, please, please, fe–, ngh, feel you right there – yes, inside – ahhhhh!”

The slick sound of Sylvain pushing the dildo inside himself is clearly audible, and Felix nearly comes on the spot, stars in his vision and gasping for air. 

Every stuttered moan makes him jerk up into his hand _hard_ , automatically, like Sylvain’s voice has his body under a spell. If he closes his eyes, he can see Sylvain riding him, head thrown back in ecstasy and flushed beautifully, cock bouncing as Felix fills him, over and over.

“Mm, hah, love how you feel inside me, s’perfect, like you were made for me – ahhh! Yes! Fuck, ngh, faster! Rail me, wanna feel you so deep, wanna feel you for days – hah, ah – please! Right there, oh, oh my fuck – yes!” 

Sylvain’s hardly making any sense now, moaning and gasping at each audible thrust, and Felix can’t help but to time his own strokes to match, slamming up into his hand at each wet squelch like it’s _his_ cock inside Sylvain, like it’s _him_ taking Sylvain apart so thoroughly he can hardly speak. 

“Ahhhh, fuck, m’close! Ngh, want you – ahh – to come in–, inside me! Oh yes, oh fuck, please – hah – come with me! Mm, need you, love you, fe–fuck! Close, please, yes – ah, ah, ah, ahhhhhh!”

Sylvain sounds so good, so perfect, so _wrecked_. But as incredible as his moans are, it’s that choked out “love you” that pushes Felix over the edge. 

“Syl, yes – Syl, oh fuck, ah, ahhh, Sylvain, Syl-vaaain!” he gasps, and then he’s shuddering, coming the hardest he ever has in his life, in sync with Sylvain’s final shouts of pleasure. His whole body is thrumming with the force of it, blood rushing in his ears, waves of pleasure seeming to last forever.

Dazed, Felix floats mindlessly for a few minutes. The aftershocks of his orgasm wash over him in pleasant shivers. 

His stomach and chest are covered in cum, which Felix usually finds disgusting, but his mind’s stuck on loop imagining that it’s Sylvain’s. He shudders, feeling warm as he pictures Sylvain cleaning him up, kissing him with his own taste still on his tongue.

When he finally comes back to reality, the audio is still going, Sylvain trying to catch his breath too. 

“Oh…oh, wow,” Sylvain pants, sounding almost reverent. “Holy shit, that was…even better than I thought it would be.” 

Another minute or so passes before both of their breathing starts to even out. 

“I may have gone off script a little at the end, heh…let my imagination run wild there for a minute…” Sylvain sounds relaxed and sleepy now, letting his words trail off, voice deep and low. The soft cadence would make Felix drowsy even if he wasn’t fucked out and completely sated. 

“…But, I came so hard I practically blacked out…so it all works out in the end.” A loud yawn, then he mumbles, “Think I needed that…and I also need to sleep now, so…until next time.”

The audio cuts off. Felix lies there in silence for a minute before reluctantly heading to the bathroom to clean up. He really is wrung out and exhausted – it’s hard to stop yawning while he’s brushing his teeth. 

There will surely be…emotions…for him to process tomorrow, but for now, Felix’s mind is blissfully blank, and he can only drag himself back to bed, falling asleep the instant his head hits the pillow. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What kind of lawyer is Felix? Whatever kind you think he should be! While I tried to keep it general, my experience is in tax law (which Felix would probably hate), and not as a lawyer, so apologies for any inaccuracies.
> 
> Also idk why AO3 insisted on capitalizing 'roommates' in the tags...but I couldn't get it to stop so it's staying that way 😂
> 
> Thanks for reading, hope you enjoyed! Kudos and comments are <33333
> 
> Find me on twitter - [@nearlynemaria](https://twitter.com/nearlynemaria)


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thanks again to [Magpie](https://archiveofourown.org/users/MagpieCrown) for betaing this! go check out their [amazing artworks on twitter](https://twitter.com/royalcorvids) too!!

Sunday morning comes, and Felix wakes up to his alarm from a blissful, dreamless sleep.

He takes a few minutes to bask in the unusual relaxation, which ends up being a mistake – letting his brain wake up with nothing else to distract it means that the hazy memory of last night comes crashing over him like a bucket of cold water – and he bolts upright in bed.

Did he really– ? If it were a dream, at least Felix could blame his unconscious mind, but–

Ugh. He really did. It’s obvious once he unlocks his phone and his browser is still on the page for Sylvain’s audio file.

Felix flops back on the pillow with a loud groan. Maybe he should just stay in bed today. Ingrid’s only gone for a week, anyway – they could always catch up later.

Unfortunately, there’s no possibility of going back to sleep. The flush of embarrassment is more potent than even the strongest coffee, and he’s fully awake now, nearly vibrating with nervous energy.

At least the weather seems nice today, and the sun’s only just up, so it’s the perfect time for a run to clear his thoughts.

Felix throws on some fresh clothes, quickly refills the cats’ food and water downstairs, and bolts out the door. Sylvain doesn’t seem to be awake yet – it’s very early and his door is still closed – but it would be just Felix’s luck for him to pop up out of nowhere and startle him into doing something stupid. Like blurting out a guilty confession of his illicit activities last night.

Once outside, he sets a brisk pace, heading for the riverside trail near their apartment. The rushing of the water is loud this morning, the river full and lively from the rainstorm yesterday; it’s the perfect backdrop for Felix’s tumultuous thoughts.

The whole point of Felix getting off to Sylvain’s voice last night was to calm him down, get it out of his system so he could at least pretend to act normal around Sylvain – but Felix can already tell that it was only a partial success.

He does feel less pent up now, less sensitive to any touch – at the very least, he probably won’t get hard just from being around Sylvain and his general cuddliness. And he supposes it did help with his overall stress levels. Despite his current anxieties, Felix can’t actually recall a time he’s ever woken up more relaxed.

But annoyingly, his fixation on Sylvain’s voice seems to have only gotten worse. Every moan, gasp, and broken sentence has been seared into his brain, and it takes a ridiculous amount of effort to steer his mind away from playing them all on loop – a never-ending reminder of his weakness.

Honestly, he’s never had this kind of problem with anyone else. Hearing his previous partners’ noises in bed was exciting at first, but after a while he just got used to it, the physical sensations becoming more important.

Maybe he needs to do the same thing with Sylvain’s voice, just desensitize himself to it?

Felix _has_ managed to get used to shirtless Sylvain, sweaty Sylvain, Sylvain wet and dripping straight out of the shower…at least, enough that he only blushes under extenuating circumstances.

This can’t be too much different.

He really must be well-rested this morning, because it feels like it’s only taken a couple minutes to reach his favorite stopping point on the trail – a huge, wooden bridge arcing over the river that’s usually twenty minutes’ distance from home. It’s intricately detailed, and wide enough to accommodate both the pathway and comfortable benches on either side for passers-by to sit and watch the rushing water or the clouds above.

Panting, Felix eases into a walk to cool down, pacing the length of the bridge a few times before taking over one of the benches.

If he’s going to try to desensitize himself to Sylvain’s voice, he might as well take a look at what he has to work with.

Sylvain’s post is still open on his phone, thankfully – there’s no way Felix would have remembered his ridiculous username. @galoot_of_ill_repute…how very like Sylvain to poke fun at himself, both for his reputation and his peculiar knowledge of uncommon vocabulary.

Clicking through to Sylvain’s profile page, Felix sees there are four audio posts in total. That seems like it should be enough to dampen his interest.

In his past relationships, the sounds of sex lost their novelty by the end of the first or second encounter, and that was when his attraction was reciprocated…it should be even easier to tire himself out on someone he’s not allowed to have.

The oldest post is the mandatory introduction, from almost 5 months earlier. Another two were uploaded 2 and 3 months after the intro, and the audio he listened to last night is the most recent, posted…only a week and a half ago.

_Fuck._

Just ten days ago, Sylvain was –

Felix hurries to cut off that line of thought before it can escalate. He needs to hold on to at least some of the relaxation from his restful sleep as long as possible if he has any hope of getting through lunch with his sanity intact.

Ears burning, he quickly bookmarks the page for later and closes the tab.

He’s feeling a little too warm now, although it’s not just from his embarrassed arousal – the morning sun is now well into the sky, bright and hot enough that sitting outside of the shade is starting to feel uncomfortable.

The river looks cool and tempting, so he stows his phone and makes his way across the bridge and down to the waterline. Under the shadow of the riverside trees, there’s an outcropping of smooth, flat rocks to sit on, and Felix takes off his shoes and lets his feet dip into the river.

Concentrating only on the rush of the river and how the current tickles against his skin, it’s easy to calm down, his heart rate slowing back to normal.

It feels a little nostalgic, sticking his feet in the water like this. Back when Felix, Sylvain, Dimitri, and Ingrid were young and still an inseparable group, they spent countless summers skipping stones across the river near Dimitri’s childhood home, letting their toes grow wrinkly from soaking for hours, playing through elaborate scenarios of knights and princes, staying out too late and getting eaten by mosquitoes…things were simpler then.

Though, he supposes, their group really isn’t so different now. They’d all had their own falling-outs and disappearing acts over the years, but they’d made their way back to each other eventually, as if their friendship was a force as strong and ever-present as gravity.

Even now, there’s no one Felix trusts more than his three oldest friends.

It’ll be nice to see them today, despite his brief misgivings earlier. Their schedules don’t all line up like this very often – Felix himself was swamped with work the last few times he got an invite – so he won’t let anything less than a force of nature prevent him from showing up this time.

As long as he avoids touching Sylvain, and Sylvain avoids moaning over how good the food is, everything should be just fine.

—

Everything is _not_ just fine.

Dimitri has brought Claude to lunch, which is all well and good, except that Claude insists on sitting next to him, and Ingrid and Dorothea always sit across from one another so they can play footsie.

…All of which leaves Felix stuck between Sylvain and the wall on one side of the cramped booth.

He’s trying his best to avoid touching Sylvain, but Dorothea is on Sylvain’s other side, gushing about her upcoming trip with Ingrid – and from the way Sylvain is shifting towards him, her excited gestures are taking up more room by the minute.

Sylvain seems antsy today, too – he’s bouncing his leg and shifting in his seat so there’s always some part of him constantly brushing against Felix’s leg or arm or side. It’s incredibly distracting.

By the time the server arrives to take their order, Sylvain’s left side is fully pressed against Felix’s right, shoulder to shoulder and thigh to thigh, and Felix can’t scoot any further over without phasing into the wall – which would actually be preferable to the current situation, now that he thinks about it. Who needs a corporeal form, anyway.

To make things worse, Felix is seated directly across from Claude, who keeps glancing between him and Sylvain with a knowing look in his eye, grinning widely whenever Felix catches him in the act. Felix barely restrains the urge to kick him under the table when he suddenly winks, blatantly advertising that he’s figured out Felix’s secret.

This entire situation is Claude’s fault, actually. Why does Dimitri have to have a crush on someone so infuriating?

“–Felix? Is everything alright? You haven’t said a word since we got here.”

Dimitri’s concerned tone breaks through Felix’s bubble of irritation, though he still sounds snappier than he’d like when he replies.

“I’m fine. Just hungry. And a little too _warm._ ” He punctuates the word with a gentle elbow to Sylvain’s ribs.

Sylvain only looks over at him, grinning brightly and leaning further into Felix’s side, before turning his attention back to Dorothea.

“Ugh. I’m not a pillow, Sylvain,” he grumbles.

But Sylvain’s smile has sapped most of the bite from Felix’s voice, and Claude gives him another cheeky grin across the table.

Whatever.

“He is a space heater, isn’t he,” Dimitri says. “Why not just remove your jacket?”

_Because skin-to-skin contact would only make it worse._

But of course Felix can’t say that out loud, so he just shrugs.

“Oh, then is there some _other_ reason you’re feeling overheated?” Claude says, evilly.

Felix wants to counter with a taunt of his own, but Claude looks completely unbothered to be pressed up against Dimitri, not flustered in the least. And unfortunately, pointing out Dimitri’s blush wouldn’t affect Claude at all – it’d only make his friend feel awkward.

Whatever. Felix won’t meddle, because Dimitri doesn’t want him to. Even if it means putting up with Claude poking at the sleeping beast that is Felix’s attraction to Sylvain.

Sighing, Felix pushes Sylvain just upright enough that he can stand and peel off his jacket, leaving only his sleeveless turtleneck underneath. It’s a little chilly for a second, no longer being surrounded by body heat – but then Sylvain places a palm on Felix’s knee, and he drops back into his seat, scalded.

“ _What_ are you _doing,_ ” he hisses into Sylvain’s ear, taking his hand and placing it firmly back onto his leg where it belongs.

“I thought you were trying to leave,” Sylvain says, a small pout on his lips.

“Leave–? How? By climbing over the back of the booth?”

“It’s not like you’ve haven’t done that before, Fe,” Sylvain says, eyebrow raised, squeezing Felix’s hand to emphasize his point.

…Wait. Why is his hand still holding Sylvain’s?

He pulls it back as soon as Sylvain lets go, feeling a blush bloom over his face – apparently his body is just determined to betray him today.

“Whatever. That was ages ago. I wouldn’t run out on you now,” Felix says. At least his voice comes out steady.

“Good!” Ingrid butts in cheerily – of course she’s been eavesdropping. “Because I wouldn’t hesitate to chase you down if you tried.”

Dimitri nods. “We don’t get together very often as it is. It wouldn’t be right for anyone to dine and dash, or I suppose, dash without dining in this case.”

“That means ‘leave without paying’, not ‘abandon your friends and break their hearts’, Mitya,” Claude teases, and Dimitri’s blush grows brighter, even though Felix is the butt of the joke.

Sylvain laughs, though it comes out slightly strained. “Aww, Felix would never break our hearts. If I remember right, he booked it last time because I wouldn’t shut up about girls. Totally fair.”

Felix does remember. He also remembers that the reason he left so abruptly wasn’t because he was sick of hearing about girls – although he _was_ sick of it – it was because he couldn’t stand how fake Sylvain’s smile was as he talked. The self-loathing was rolling off him in waves; Felix couldn’t understand how the others didn’t see it. Or maybe they did see it, but like Felix, they had no idea how to help.

He can see some of that self-loathing coming back into Sylvain’s eyes now, and he’d do anything to banish it again.

“No,” Felix says, firmly, and deliberately leans into Sylvain’s side a little. “I should have stayed.”

Sylvain presses closer too, a mirror of Felix’s movement. “Yeah?”

Felix nods.

“Okay.”

That’s all it takes for Sylvain’s real smile to return, and Felix relaxes, relieved.

The conversation turns back to the latest developments in everyone’s lives. It’s easier for Felix to focus now for some reason, even though he’s still fully pressed up against Sylvain, heart still racing from the proximity.

Maybe it’s because it feels like the contact is necessary now – an anchor to remind Sylvain that Felix wants to be here.

Their food arrives, and the table is quieter for a bit as everyone digs in. Someone must have ordered for Felix while he was stuck in his own head earlier, but it’s one of his favorites, so he can’t complain.

Ingrid finishes her meal first, as usual, and excitedly resumes Dorothea’s earlier description of their coming vacation. She’s just finished listing all the restaurants she wants to visit while they’re in Enbarr when Felix’s phone chimes loudly with a text.

Felix has to lean away from Sylvain to retrieve his phone from his pocket, which is annoying, but when he sees the contents of the text he’s glad he checked the message so promptly.

“Looks like I’m going out of town tomorrow as well,” he says to the group, after shooting off a quick response.

“Ah, for work or for _pleasure_?” Dorothea asks with a saucy wink.

Ingrid rolls her eyes affectionately, but for some reason Sylvain stiffens up beside him.

“Work, obviously,” Felix replies. “The boss is sick and can’t make the trip out to work on the case for the client in Hrym. Unfortunately I’m the only one who can spare a week.”

At that, Sylvain relaxes again, flopping his entire body weight against Felix’s side and using his shoulder like a pillow. “You’ll be gone for the whole _week_? That’s no fuuuun,” he whines petulantly.

Felix snorts. “Oh, don’t be dramatic. At least you’ll have the cats to keep you company.”

“Wait, they’re sending just you, not Lysithea too?” Claude asks, eyes wide in disbelief. “That’s gonna be a ton of work to handle on your own.”

Felix nods. “She requested the week off a long time ago, so I can’t blame her. But I can manage by myself,” he says with a shrug, inadvertently dislodging Sylvain’s cheek from his shoulder.

Honestly, he’s dreading the prospect of both the last minute travel and the massive amount of work, especially coming out of such a pleasant weekend, but it’s nowhere near the most annoying thing he’s had to do for work. And Felix usually works faster on his own, anyway.

Sylvain shoves his face back into the fabric of Felix’s turtleneck with another dramatic whine, and – was that – ? Sylvain’s lips? That just brushed against his bare shoulder?

_Fuck._

The room is suddenly suffocatingly warm, and Felix has to pinch his own leg – hard – to force his focus back to the conversation.

“Y’know, this kind of thing would never happen if you just left that place and joined my firm like I’ve been asking you to,” Claude is saying, the quirk of his eyebrows both smug and amused.

He’s probably right, but Felix would rather deal with any number of unplanned trips than put up with Claude’s now-inevitable teasing every day of the week.

Once he and Dimitri finally get together, maybe Claude will be occupied enough with his own love life to stop pestering Felix about his, and he’ll be able to seriously consider the offer. But until then, Felix is staying right where he is.

“You mean, like you’ve been _making Dimitri_ ask me,” he says, one eyebrow raised. “It is possible for you to text me yourself, you know.”

Dimitri startles at his name, apparently having zoned out while staring at Claude.

“Oh! It’s quite alright, Felix,” he says. “I enjoy it, actually. Staying up to date on Cla– I mean, both of your work lives is very interesting, even if I do not entirely understand what is going on.”

Dimitri’s blushing brightly again at his slip-up, but Claude doesn’t seem to have noticed, as he’s smirking at Felix even wider now.

“See? Even Mitya thinks you should join me! Your friends are very wise,” Claude says triumphantly. Then, with a soft look at Dimitri, he adds, “At least this one is, anyway.”

Felix suppresses a groan. They are both so goddess-damned _obvious_.

Ingrid and Dorothea seem to agree with his frustration – they’re leaning over the table towards each other to whisper and giggle among themselves, shooting exasperated looks back at all four of the men.

“Well, it’s not like I could leave the firm right now even if I wanted to,” Felix says, “but I’ll keep your offer in mind in case something changes.”

An irritated “ _just like I’ve said I would every single time you ask_ ” is on the tip of his tongue, but then the server arrives with the check, and Sylvain nearly leaps from his seat to begin the traditional squabble over who pays, leaving Felix bereft of his warmth.

This time, they decide the winner will be determined by a breath-holding contest. Claude eagerly joins in with the usual quartet of Dimitri, Ingrid, Sylvain, and Felix.

It comes down to Felix and Dimitri, and Dimitri holds out just a second longer, to Felix’s disappointment. He mentally adds another 15 minutes to his daily cardio routine as Dimitri pulls out his wallet, beaming.

“I don’t often win these, unless we choose something strength-based like arm wrestling,” Dimitri explains to Claude, almost shyly.

“And of course we all know no one has a chance against him then,” Ingrid adds, “so we usually pick something else unless he’s looking particularly put-upon.”

“Oh, the puppy eyes _are_ unfairly powerful!” Claude agrees with a chuckle.

As they head outside, Dimitri invites everyone to his house to continue socializing – but Ingrid, Dorothea, and Felix still have packing to do, and Sylvain is Felix’s ride, so only Claude accepts in the end.

Felix would apologize, but Dimitri clearly isn’t too upset about this outcome. His eye is bright and excited as Claude lays a hand on his arm, standing on tiptoes to whisper something into his ear that makes him blush bright red yet again.

For a moment, Felix catches Sylvain staring at them wistfully, and the pounding of his heart that’s been a constant all day suddenly feels painful in his chest.

Of course – of _course_ Sylvain is feeling a little nostalgic. He should have known.

Not for the first time, Felix wonders if Sylvain regrets moving in with him. Wonders if he’s depriving himself of intimacy for Felix’s sake alone, and not because he’s happier to be single for once.

Admittedly, Sylvain does seem to be doing better since he stopped having meaningless flings…but not all relationships have to be meaningless. What if he’s ready to take dating seriously, and staying celibate in Felix’s apartment is preventing him from meeting the love of his life? As much as Felix’s heart would break to see Sylvain truly in love with someone else, he’s not sure whether he could forgive himself if Sylvain missed a chance for real happiness because of him.

Or…maybe that wistful look is because he’s already in love? With Dimitri, or, somehow, with Claude?

Ugh. This is too much to think about in public.

Felix pointedly shoves all his guilt and worry and longing into a box in the back of his mind, and shuts it away tightly to mull over later.

After a truly excruciating group hug in the parking lot – Dimitri and Sylvain using their height advantage to crush everyone else inside the loop of their arms – they all start to gradually drift their separate ways.

Needing a moment to himself, Felix heads over to pace next to Sylvain’s car, waiting for him to finish up his conversation with Ingrid and Dorothea.

As usual, lunch has extended almost into early dinner. Felix’s flight is at 4am tomorrow morning, and the afternoon has passed so quickly that he’s starting to feel a little stressed about the time crunch of stopping by his office, packing, and getting at least a little sleep before he has to leave. With how disorganized his boss is, it could take hours just to track down all the files he needs.

Felix is so engrossed in going over everything he needs to do before he leaves that he almost startles out of his skin at the sudden hand on his shoulder. But before he can react, Sylvain is spinning him around and pulling him into a hug even more crushing than being sandwiched between Claude, Ingrid, and Dorothea a few minutes ago.

Unlike the group hug, though, this is…extremely nice.

It’s not often that Felix lets himself indulge in touching Sylvain like this. But it seems like Sylvain needs the contact today, so he allows himself to lean into the hug, sliding his hands around Sylvain’s waist to rest on his back.

Sylvain smells so good, and his arms are so warm, and his collarbone is _right_ there…

_Want you to press on the bruises later and remember you’re all **mine**._

Fuck. This is the absolute _worst_ time to remember how Sylvain’s voice had gotten so heated, so deliciously possessive, such a perfect mirror of Felix’s own intensifying desire to mark Sylvain as _his_.

He’s feeling a little too tempted to press his lips against Sylvain’s neck and taste every inch of that freckled skin; too compelled to push aside the fabric of Sylvain’s collar and devote himself to finding all the sweet, sensitive spots that will make him moan in pleasure.

Trying to hide both his heated blush and his view of Sylvain’s skin, Felix shoves his face fully into the front of Sylvain’s shirt. It just barely prevents the thread of his self-control from snapping.

Unfortunately, this position is only a little less frustrating. With his ear now pressed to Sylvain’s chest, Felix can hear Sylvain’s heart pounding just as fast as his own, and he can’t help but wish that _he_ might be the cause – that pressing against Felix like this could be possibly affecting Sylvain enough to make his pulse race.

But logically, it’s much more likely that the rushed rhythm of Sylvain’s heartbeat is the result of whatever emotions were behind that wistful stare towards Dimitri and Claude – not anything related to Felix.

Felix is still avoiding that train of thought, though, so he focuses all his mental energy on controlling his breathing, trying to keep it from hitching every time Sylvain pulls him a little closer.

They stand that way for a few minutes, swaying together in the now nearly-empty parking lot. Sylvain’s grip gradually loosens as he relaxes, and he occasionally hums a little into Felix’s hair.

“Thanks, Fe,” Sylvain eventually says, voice hoarse with something Felix can’t identify.

“…For what?”

“For coming to this, and staying, I guess. Last time we did lunch without you, it…did not go well,” he mumbles against Felix’s head. “Ingrid and I had a massive fight, and she wouldn’t respond to my texts for a whole month…I don’t remember if I told you about that – it was before I moved in with you. Today was the first time I’ve seen her since.”

Is that why Sylvain’s been so restless today?

“Mm,” Felix says, partially to encourage Sylvain to continue, and partially because he’s currently incapable of saying anything more intelligent, too distracted by the little thrills of warmth still vibrating through him from each point of contact between them.

“Anyway, it doesn’t really matter, I guess, because she would have brought it up again if she was still upset. And she didn’t, so it’s all good.”

Sylvain sighs, and squeezes him tighter for a moment before he continues.

“…Also, thanks for letting me channel Spook and rub all over you, haha. It actually really helped. With me being nervous, I mean.”

_Rub all over him?_

There’s no stopping how Felix’s body responds to those words – sending another shock of warmth to his face, and a spark of interest to his cock that leaves him instantly half-hard.

Suddenly, he can’t get last night’s promise of a massage out of his mind.

Seiros, why did Sylvain have to phrase it like that?

“That’s…good,” Felix manages to grit out before pulling away. “I’m glad it helped.” He _is_ glad, and he hopes it shows in his voice, but continuing to touch Sylvain right now is a recipe for disaster.

Thankfully, Sylvain seems to interpret his disengagement from the hug as eagerness to get home and nothing more. “Oh! I forgot you have to be up crazy early. We should head back, huh,” he says, pulling out his keys and unlocking the car.

The drive back to their apartment is mostly quiet, Sylvain occasionally humming along to songs on the radio, until Felix gets another text from his boss.

“Fuuuuuck,” he groans, irritated. “There’s apparently two entire _boxes_ of paper files for this case…I’m going to need a whole suitcase just for that. Ugh.”

Sylvain glances over at him, then back to the road. “That sucks. I always forget how out of date the legal field is – you’d think everyone would want electronic files by now, y’know?” he says.

“Not my boss, unfortunately,” Felix replies. “She’s definitely…old-fashioned.”

Although, hopefully “boxes” means that the files are at least already all in one place so he won’t have to spend the whole evening scouring the office for them.

After a moment, Sylvain makes a thoughtful noise. “What about tonight? If you want, I can drive you there so it’s easier to get them back home?”

Felix doesn’t want to take up Sylvain’s entire evening, but – he did offer, and the thought of lugging boxes of documents onto the train is decidedly unpleasant.

“Alright…yes. If you don’t mind, that would help.”

“Of course I don’t mind, Felix. Although, you should be prepared…I may demand ‘compensation’ later.”

Keeping one hand on the wheel, Sylvain uses the other to indicate the air-quotes, grinning mischievously.

Felix scoffs. “Fine. But If you ask for something ridiculous, I won’t hesitate to punch you.” It’s an idle threat – the worst he’d really do is refuse – but Sylvain already knows that.

“Oh, don’t worry. I’ll make sure to request something we’ll _both_ enjoy.” Sylvain winks, the drawl of his voice almost…flirtatious?

No, that’s ridiculous. Listening to that audio was clearly the worst decision of Felix’s life – he’s now sunk to the level of projecting desire into Sylvain’s voice, when there’s obviously nothing there but his usual charm and friendly affection.

“Tch. Or you could just keep it simple and I’ll owe you a favor for next time.”

But seeing Sylvain still smiling as they pull into the parking lot of Felix’s office, still humming cheerily as he helps load the boxes into the car…

…Felix knows there’s almost nothing Sylvain could request that he wouldn’t do.

—

The flight from Fhirdiad to Gronder Airport is relatively short, but Felix still sleeps the entire time – he’d ended up getting only three hours of sleep at home, even with Sylvain’s help. He also nods off in the taxi from the airport to the city of Hrym, and wakes up only when the driver knocks on his window from outside, waiting next to the car with his luggage.

Thankfully, his naps were restful and dreamless, and Felix finally feels awake enough to start making headway on the work for this week.

It’s almost 8am, so it’s too early to check into the hotel, but he doesn’t meet with the client until noon, so he decides to take advantage of the sprawling hotel lobby and its free coffee to start going through all the files for the case.

But first, he should probably text Sylvain, to let him know he arrived safely, and his brother, so he won’t get scolded later for not telling him he’s within visiting distance of Goneril.

> Felix (7:54am): I’m at the hotel. If you’re reading this before noon go back to bed, there’s no need for us both to be exhausted.

> Felix (7:59am): Hey Glenn. I’m in Hrym for work until Friday night. Now you can’t be mad I didn’t tell you. I won’t have time to visit but we can get lunch if you come down.

There’s no immediate response from either of them, and Felix breathes a sigh of relief knowing Sylvain is hopefully still asleep.

It’s not a good idea to let himself think too much about Sylvain, though – the phantom heat on his skin from yesterday’s copious physical contact and the ever-present echoes of Sylvain’s noises of pleasure are a sure path to distraction.

To snap himself into work mode, Felix goes for another cup of shitty coffee, plugs in his earbuds to listen to his “focus” playlist, and starts digging into the documents.

The day passes quickly and surprisingly pleasantly once he gets into the zone. He manages to comb through a decent amount of the files before meeting with the client, and the client herself turns out to be easy to work with and calmer than most.

So it’s not until the evening – when Felix finally makes it back to his hotel room after dinner – that it finally hits him.

This will be the first night he’s spent away from home since Sylvain moved in.

The realization makes something unpleasant curl through his stomach and up into his throat. After a moment, Felix is able to identify the emotion, and the sheer ridiculousness of it has him groaning loudly and flopping face first onto the bed.

Really? He misses Sylvain _already_?

Seiros, he is such a hypocrite for calling Sylvain dramatic yesterday if this is how it’s going to be. It hasn’t even been 24 hours since they’ve seen each other. Why can’t he just be grateful that he has someone trustworthy looking after the cats and leave it at that?

Groaning again, Felix droops off the bed and onto the floor – if he goes limp enough, maybe Sothis will be merciful and turn his body into a gelatinous blob. Gelatinous blobs don’t have feelings, or fall in unrequited love with their best friend, or get turned on every fucking time they think about that friend and his incredibly sexy voice.

But alas, the goddess does not hear his plea.

The floor is too cold and hard for it to be comfortable for long, so Felix reluctantly gets back onto the bed, grabbing his phone from the charger. Since he’s had it on silent all day, there are a few texts waiting for his response.

> Felix (7:59am): Hey Glenn. I’m in Hrym for work until Friday night. Now you can’t be mad I didn’t tell you. I won’t have time to visit but we can get lunch if you come down.

> Glenn (10:13am): Incorrect! I can be mad about whatever I want. How does Thursday lunch sound? Holst wants to come too.

> Felix (8:24pm): Holst is fine, but no Hilda. I’m really not in the mood for his blatant matchmaking, and you know she hates it just as much. Thursday works.

> Annette (11:30am): Feliiiiiix!!!! You didn’t tell me you were leaving town this week!!!!!! Now who is supposed to taste-test my new muffin recipe and make sure it’s not too sweet? 😭😭😭😭

> Felix (8:27pm): It’s not like I’m gone forever, you know. I’ll try it next week.
> 
> Felix (8:28pm): You should consider expanding your shop – Hrym is utterly lacking in good coffee.

> Felix (7:54am): I’m at the hotel. If you’re reading this before noon go back to bed, there’s no need for us both to be exhausted.

> Sylvain (1:11pm): awww Felix!!
> 
> Sylvain (1:11pm): i feel so loved when u worry abt me
> 
> Sylvain (1:11pm): <3
> 
> Sylvain (1:12pm): but i didn’t wake up until just now haha
> 
> Sylvain (4:48pm): the kitties miss u already
> 
> Sylvain (4:49pm): [video attached]

Felix opens the video, and it begins with Sylvain’s face as he holds a finger up to his lips in a shushing motion. His hair is an absolute mess – Felix has to clench his fist against the strong urge to run his fingers through those soft red waves.

Then the camera flips around as Sylvain moves towards Felix’s bedroom – the door is half closed, and his hand comes into view, slowly pushing it all the way open. He seems to be quietly tiptoeing towards the bed, and the reason soon becomes apparent: Spook and Lumi are curled up together in a perfect circle, sleeping right in the center of Felix’s pillow. They almost look like yin and yang, with Lumi’s white fur against the black of Spook’s, except that Lumi rudely has a leg splayed out across Spook’s neck. Felix snorts – typical Lumi.

The camera flips back to Sylvain. “They’ve been like this since I woke up! Maybe even longer,” he whispers. “I don’t blame them, your pillows do look super comfy.” Sylvain winks, teasing, then waves at the camera and the video ends.

Felix saves the video, then pauses, cursor blinking at the bottom of his text conversation with Sylvain. The video was cute, but he doesn’t really know how to respond to the texts.

“Good. As you should,” is what he wants to write, or “I miss them too,” but those are both painfully sappy. Also, the second one ignores his main problem, which is that he misses _Sylvain_ right now, much more than the cats.

His finger hovers over the call button in the corner. Should he just–?

Felix hardly ever calls Sylvain first, but then again, he’s hardly ever out of town.

Fuck it.

He hits the button before he can talk himself out of it, pressing the phone to his ear.

It rings once, twice, three times, and Felix is just about to give up and end the call before it goes to voicemail when Sylvain finally picks up.

“Hah – Felix?” Sylvain gasps. “Are you – hah – okay? Did something happen?”

He’s panting hard into Felix’s ear like he’s been training for a marathon. Felix’s brain unhelpfully conjures memories of Sylvain out of breath for a much more pleasurable reason, and it takes all of his concentration to try to answer Sylvain as if he’s completely unaffected.

“No, nothing happened. I’m fine,” Felix says, but he can’t tell if it sounds weird over the noise of his pulse pounding in his ears. “Is it – were you just on the treadmill or something?”

Sylvain laughs, high and breathless. “…Something like that.”

What is that supposed to mean? Felix doesn’t dare ask for details – if there’s even a hint that he was right to imagine Sylvain recording another audio, he might just spontaneously combust.

“So, if it’s not an emergency, what’s up then? I can’t even remember the last time you called me without texting first,” Sylvain continues, sounding a little less winded now.

Fuck. Felix didn’t think this far ahead. He can’t very well say he just called to hear Sylvain’s voice.

“Nothing’s up,” he says, stalling. “I just, uh…” Suddenly, Felix remembers he hadn’t actually verbally thanked Sylvain for his help last night and this morning. “Wanted to thank you for driving me to the airport. And the office. You didn’t have to lose sleep over me.”

“Just to thank me, huh?” Sylvain sounds amused. “Should I take this as a sign you’re being held hostage or something? Or is this even the real Felix?”

“Tch. If you’re going to be like that I’ll just hang up–”

“–No!” Sylvain hurriedly interrupts. “Sorry, sorry, I’ll stop! …And I didn’t mean that I think you’re ungrateful, by the way. I was just surprised you’d call over something like that.”

He sounds pleased, though, so Felix makes a mental note to call him more often, or at least often enough that he doesn’t immediately assume it’s an emergency.

“Did you call out of work today?” Felix asks, changing the subject.

“Nah, they don’t really care when I do the work, as long as it gets done and I don’t miss any meetings. And today is No-Meetings-Monday, so it all worked out,” Sylvain says. “Oh, shit–!”

There’s suddenly a loud crash, pans hitting the floor if Felix had to guess, and he has to pull the phone away from his ear for a second. “Sylvain?” he asks once the noise has died down.

More clattering, then Sylvain picks up the phone again. “It’s fine, it’s fine! I just dropped some dishes. That’s what I get for trying to make dinner one-handed. Can I put you on speakerphone?”

“Sure. What are you making?”

Sylvain hums, distracted for a minute. The sound of it amongst the other kitchen noises makes Felix smile, his chest tight with affection – this is turning out to be a pretty good substitute for actually being at home.

“Oh, I forgot to tell you!” Sylvain suddenly exclaims. “Dedue’s going to teach me how to make some dishes from Duscur, so I bought all these spices I’ve never used before…hmmm, chop the vegetables? What size pieces though…” He trails off again, muttering about the recipe. It’s unbearably cute.

Felix doesn’t want to interrupt him, so he stays quiet, smiling into the pillow and waiting for Sylvain to remember the thread of the conversation.

“Anyway! Right, you asked what I was making.”

“I did.”

“Dedue’s coming over sometime this week so I thought I’d just try – hang on…” There’s the sound of a food processor for a minute or so, then Sylvain continues. “I thought I’d try something simple just to get the hang of it, y’know. So I don’t embarrass myself in front of him.”

“Ha, that’s hardly necessary,” Felix snorts. “You’re good at cooking and you know it. Dedue knows it too.”

“Hmmm…I think you might be biased just because I feed you all the time.”

Felix can _hear_ his expression through the phone – a huge smirk, brown eyes crinkled at the corners, probably an embarrassed blush at the compliment. It’s an extremely attractive look, and he wishes he could be there to see it.

“…Maybe. But I wouldn’t tell you it was good if it wasn’t,” Felix says.

“You are very blunt,” Sylvain agrees, “but I like that about you, Fe.” On the second half of the sentence, his voice suddenly drops, low and rough, and a bolt of heat shoots down Felix’s spine, straight to his cock.

It feels so good he has to clap a hand over his mouth to muffle a sharp moan, accidentally losing his grip on the phone and sending it tumbling to the floor.

What the fuck is _wrong_ with him? There should be nothing remotely sexy about this conversation, and yet one little sentence has him squirming in his hotel bed, desperate to touch himself.

Felix picks up the phone again. Thankfully, it doesn’t seem like Sylvain heard his moan, or the crash of his phone onto the floor – he’s still distractedly switching between telling Felix about his plans with Dedue and narrating his cooking process.

“–a lot of the recipes online looked really complicated…but I think I ended up accidentally picking a super vague one instead. What does a ‘dash’ even mean?” Sylvain pauses, running the water in the sink for a minute. “‘Cause in Faerghus, it’s like the smallest amount you can possibly add without leaving it out entirely, but – hmm. Duscur cooking is probably closer to Almyran, right?”

“Probably,” Felix says, just so Sylvain knows he hasn’t left, but it comes out breathier than he’d like.

If Felix was smart, he _would_ leave – but he doesn’t want to suddenly hang up on Sylvain, nor does he want Sylvain to think something’s wrong if he abruptly announces he has to go.

So…stay and deal with it, it is.

He’s still ridiculously hard, but undressing seems like a bad idea, so Felix palms himself through his clothes instead. It’s good – just enough to take the edge off, but not so much as to make him lose his composure.

“Oh man, this one smells really spicy, though,” Sylvain says. “Maybe I should just put in a little at a time and see how it goes.”

“Sounds like a good plan.” Felix’s voice comes out remarkably steady this time. Maybe he does still have a thread of self-control, after all.

…But then Sylvain promptly snaps the thread, because of course Felix just had to jinx himself.

“ _Mmmmm_ , fuck,” Sylvain groans. “That is… _really_ good. Wish you were here to try this, Fe. I think you’d love the spices.”

Sylvain’s moan of pleasure from tasting the food sounds exactly like the ones from the audio, and Felix bites the pillow, trying not to gasp as his hips jump up, pressing his cock firmly into his hand.

It doesn’t help that Sylvain’s voice has gotten all deep again, and that the soft way he says the nickname hits Felix right in the chest, causing a swell of affection to rush through him, somehow intensifying his arousal.

Felix doesn’t think he can keep quiet any longer, so he grabs his phone, hurriedly says “Give me a few minutes, be right back,” and hits the mute button.

There’s no response when he says Sylvain’s name a couple times just to check that he’s truly muted, so he abandons the phone in favor of freeing his aching cock from his pants.

What he wouldn’t give to be at home right now; to be in a world where he could wrap his arms around Sylvain’s waist while he cooks. A world where he could tease Sylvain with gentle touches, press up against him, and rile him up until he couldn’t resist fucking Felix right there in their kitchen.

It’s too bad Felix didn’t bring lube with him so he could finger himself…the image of Sylvain bending him over a counter has him aching to be filled. But he did say he’d only be gone for a few minutes, so it’s probably good that he didn’t.

Instead, Felix slides two fingers into his own mouth, pressing down on the back of his tongue, imagining that they’re Sylvain’s. It’s only a moment before they’re spit-slick and dripping.

He reaches down to spread the wetness over his hole, and the sensation is _electric_. A broken moan tears from Felix’s throat, and he starts circling the slickness around his rim, jerking his cock quick and rough with his other hand.

Being taken from behind is doubly appealing when Felix imagines Sylvain draped over his back, fully pressed against him, chin resting on his shoulder and breathing right into his ear...he imagines hearing Sylvain’s moans, his stuttered sentences, his hot and heavy gasps, every noise making it so clear that Sylvain wants this. Wants _him_.

…Sylvain would be so irritatingly smug if he ever learned how much Felix loves his voice. But in this fantasy world, Felix would risk telling him, just to be able to hear things like _I like that about you, Fe_ , over and over again.

_You’re mine, and I’m yours…_

_I’d love to get my hands on you…just press and press into you…_

_Love how you feel…s’perfect, like you were made for me…_

The heat builds and builds with each memory of Sylvain’s voice, ragged and rough and breathless with pleasure, and Felix is so lost in the sound of it, he hardly realizes he’s been chanting Sylvain’s name on every thrust – until his vision is whiting out, and he’s gasping and coming hard, undone by a familiar phrase.

_Need you…love you._

It’s almost as intense as the last time, but in a subtly different way – there’s a swell of emotion overcoming him that doesn’t fade after his climax, and the hotel room feels abruptly cold and lonely, even though sleeping alone has never bothered Felix before.

Goddess, he is in _so_ much trouble.

The call with Sylvain is still going as Felix cleans himself up and slides under the covers, and Felix can hear him working in the kitchen, chopping something and humming a tune that matches the rhythm of his knife. Already, the room seems a little warmer again.

It’s only been five minutes since Felix muted himself, so at least he hasn’t kept Sylvain waiting long. He announces his return with a muffled “M’back,” from underneath the covers, which makes Sylvain laugh.

“Feliiiix. Were you getting ready for bed? You don’t have to stay up with me, y’know,” he says.

“I know,” Felix mumbles. “Keep telling me about the food.”

Sylvain obliges, a smile in his voice, and continues his narration. If Felix closes his eyes, it’s easy to pretend he’s at home on the couch, listening to Sylvain work.

Slowly, with the warmth of Sylvain’s voice filling his hotel room from miles and miles away, Felix drifts into a dreamless sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading, hope you enjoyed! Kudos and comments are <33333 Let me know if I missed anything in the tags that you want me to add!
> 
> Find me on twitter - [@nearlynemaria](https://twitter.com/nearlynemaria)


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thanks again to [Magpie](https://archiveofourown.org/users/MagpieCrown) for betaing this! go check out their [amazing artworks on twitter](https://twitter.com/royalcorvids) too!!

Tuesday passes by in a blur.

In the morning, Felix is miraculously able to find a coffee shop that’s willing to let him spread out piles of paper across several tables. Even if their espresso isn’t half as good as Annette’s, the baristas don’t bat an eye when he orders multiple refills, and even give him a discount, so Felix ends up spending almost the entire day there, from an hour after they open all the way until closing time.

As he leaves, he drops a sizable wad of cash in the tip jar. The firm’s given him a ridiculously large daily travel allowance, so it only makes sense to reward the people who’ve had to put up with him all day – especially since he usually spends less on food for an entire _month_ than what he’s been allotted for this week alone.

But speaking of food…Felix distantly realizes that he hasn’t actually eaten anything today besides a single savory scone and copious amounts of coffee.

Between the drudgery of having to scour through paper files for relevant information instead of just using ctrl+f on a PDF, and a four-hour meeting with the client in the middle of the day, he frankly hasn’t had the time to eat anything more substantial. Still doesn’t have the time, really – he still has so much to get through tonight if he wants to be able to answer the client’s questions at tomorrow’s meeting – but there’s a familiar voice in his head that isn’t going to let him get away with not having a proper meal.

_You have to take care of yourself, Fe…Fine, fine, I know you don’t like “wasting time” on cooking, so how about this? I definitely have the spare time, so if I make you dinner will you eat it?…Even if there’s vegetables? Don’t look at me like that, I promise I can make them not disgusting!_

After Sylvain moved in, Felix had ordered takeout for most of the first week to make it easier for Sylvain to come out of hiding and eat. Despite that, Sylvain soon discovered that his usual diet consisted mostly of protein shakes, eggs, meat, and hot sauce, and promptly insisted on cooking ‘real food’ to prevent Felix from ‘collapsing from malnutrition.’

Once Felix had given in to Sylvain’s demands, it became apparent that his dislike of vegetables stemmed from his father’s complete lack of cooking skills – not through any fault of the vegetables themselves. Sylvain’s method of roasting fresh vegetables and seasoning them with plenty of spice was a _completely_ different experience from Rodrigue’s lightly salted, microwaved canned vegetables.

When Felix tasted the roasted broccoli and declared it “actually pretty good,” Sylvain’s smile had lit up the room, and the blush spreading across his cheeks at the praise made Felix want to hug him.

The memory sends warmth through Felix’s body and a soft smile to his face. He supposes he can avoid the temptation to simply stock up on beef jerky from the convenience store, at least for tonight.

If he gets takeout, it shouldn’t take up too much extra time – downtown Hrym is brimming with restaurants, even on the short walk back to the hotel.

Sure enough, it takes him only a few minutes to spot a restaurant that appears to serve something sufficiently spicy. While he’s waiting for his food to be prepared, Felix checks the texts he missed during the day.

Most of them are from Sylvain, including a few from last night, which he vaguely remembers reading while still half-asleep this morning, and apparently never responded to.

  


> Sylvain (1:32am): u fell asleep on me!!
> 
> Sylvain (1:32am): i kept the call going tho bc ur snores r too cute to miss
> 
> Sylvain (1:33am): scold me in the morning if u must
> 
> Sylvain (1:33am): but i maintain it was worth it :)

  


Felix scoffs. He’s not a cat, how can his snores be cute? Also, he should probably find it weird that Sylvain didn’t hang up after he fell asleep, but…the thought is actually strangely comforting, just like a long distance version of their normal routine.

  


> Sylvain (07:50am): im meeting a new author today and seteth told me to bump up the young and hip vibes
> 
> Sylvain (07:51am): well obvs not in those exact words but
> 
> Sylvain (07:51am): u get what i mean
> 
> Sylvain (07:52am): i guess that’s what she said she was looking for in an editor?
> 
> Sylvain (07:53am): [picture attached]
> 
> Sylvain (07:53am): so what do u think??

  


The timestamp difference between these texts and the ones from last night is a bit concerning – Sylvain can’t have gotten more than six hours of sleep, especially if he’s put care into his appearance.

…Which he most certainly has. Felix’s mouth immediately runs dry upon opening the attachment – it’s a mirror selfie of Sylvain, posing for the camera with his hand on his hip and looking cocky and stupidly attractive.

Felix is pretty sure his heart would seize up over almost any picture of Sylvain, but he has to admit – this outfit in particular does look good. _Really_ good.

…Too good to be professional, in fact – how is this even appropriate for work? Felix highly doubts Seteth intended ‘young and hip’ to mean ‘make everyone want to undress you with their eyes.’ If Felix were Sylvain’s new client, they’d get absolutely nothing done – hard to work with someone whose brain has been turned to mush from thoughts of bending Sylvain over his desk.

Sylvain’s wearing a perfectly tailored white button-up with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows, somehow emphasizing his forearms and his hands at the same time. Goddess, have his hands always been that big?

If Felix held Sylvain’s hand, would his own hand practically disappear, enveloped in Sylvain’s palm like his phone is in the picture? He hopes so. It sounds nice, comforting – like how Sylvain wraps him up with his whole body when they hug.

Fuck, he’s getting too sappy. Time to focus back on the picture.

Only the top button on the shirt is undone, so at least Sylvain isn’t actually trying to look seductive – not that that’s helping Felix at all.

Another thing that definitely isn’t helping is _that_ pair of slacks. The ones that must have been imported from hell itself – there’s no other explanation for how they’ve clearly been designed specifically to torment Felix. Sylvain’s ass and thighs look incredible in them – it’s not obvious from the angle of the picture, but Felix’s memory generously supplies a high-definition slideshow of images to remind him.

The first time Sylvain had worn them, Felix couldn’t stop daydreaming about spending hours between his legs – it was so frustrating that he’d been sorely tempted to steal them, or burn them, or buy Sylvain five more pairs. But he’d done none of the above, and look where that’s gotten him: sitting in a dim restaurant lobby half a continent away with a steadily growing hard-on.

As if all that wasn’t enough, Sylvain’s also wearing his most “hipster” pair of glasses, the ones with large rectangular lenses and a thick, chunky frame. Sylvain’s dubbed them his “least dorky” glasses, but that vastly underestimates their appeal. The black of the frame makes Sylvain’s brown eyes look even warmer than usual, and the size of the lenses means it’s still easy to see the laugh lines that crinkle the corners of his eyes when he’s genuinely smiling – like he is in the picture.

Felix can’t help but to run a finger over the screen, feeling affectionate and aroused in equal measure, before saving the picture and returning back to the text conversation. There’ll be plenty of time to fantasize later, when he isn’t in public.

  


> Sylvain (12:50pm): o shit i forgot u were gonna be super busy this week
> 
> Sylvain (12:50pm): u probably didn’t even take a lunch did u
> 
> Sylvain (12:54pm): Felix u better be eating while ur working at least or im gonna fly out there and force feed u
> 
> Sylvain (12:55pm): oooooh or i could bribe glenn to do it, he’s much more threatening

  


Apparently the Sylvain in Felix’s head telling him to eat a real dinner was completely accurate.

It should be irritating, to have someone fuss over him like this. Honestly, if it were anyone else, Felix would tell them to mind their own business – he’s perfectly capable of taking care of himself.

But with Sylvain…it’s hard not to feel more fond than annoyed. After all, Felix worries about him in the same way, or at least close. While Sylvain is usually good about eating regularly, he has a harder time with sleep – as evidenced by last night – and Felix will definitely be pestering him about it once he’s ready to respond to everything.

  


> Sylvain (6:09pm): [picture attached]
> 
> Sylvain (6:10pm): FELIX LOOK AT THEM
> 
> Sylvain (6:10pm): they trapped me as soon as i got home and haven’t budged since
> 
> Sylvain (6:12pm): i never get double cuddles, this feels weird tbh
> 
> Sylvain (6:12pm): i mean, it’s nice, and obvs adorable, but
> 
> Sylvain (6:15pm): gotta say i don’t like that it’s bc ur not here :((((((
> 
> Sylvain (6:16pm): now i see what u meant abt the apt feeling too big for one person :/

  


The second picture is a shot of Sylvain’s legs, now in pajama pants, with Spook curled up in his lap and Lumi stretched out to her full length down his calves, her nose nuzzled into Spook’s back and tail tickling one of Sylvain’s feet. Once the cats settle in, they can easily stay put for hours, so it’s entirely possible Sylvain is still trapped at this very moment, and Felix snorts at the thought.

As for the rest of the texts…he doesn’t know quite how he should feel about them. Felix knows firsthand that noticing the emptiness of his apartment is not a pleasant feeling, and it would obviously be better if Sylvain didn’t have to experience it – but he can’t help but be just a little pleased that between this and leaving the call going even after he fell asleep, Sylvain seems to miss him too.

That’s the end of Sylvain’s messages for now, but Felix doesn’t want to respond just yet – especially in regards to the selfie. It’s better if he takes a little time to think over his reply enough that he doesn’t inadvertently say something idiotic or horny, or both…in the meantime, he might as well catch up on his other notifications.

Hilda’s texts are also lengthy, and considerably more annoying than Sylvain’s, but they’re fast enough to respond to.

  


> Hilda (11:01am): sooooo holst told me i’m not allowed at your little reunion lunch! and I just want to say…
> 
> Hilda (11:02am): you are a lifesaver THANK YOU!!!
> 
> Hilda (11:04am): he acted like it was this huge insult but i would actually die if i had to listen to him and glenn talk about our dating lives for one more second
> 
> Hilda (11:05am): so in exchange for this wonderful favor i have a tiiiiiny piece of advice for you
> 
> Hilda (11:05am): JUST ASK THEM OUT ALREADY!!!! okay byeeeee <3

> Felix (7:28pm): It wasn’t a favor just for you, so advice is unnecessary. But perhaps you should take your own.

  


At least Hilda hasn’t figured out who he’s crushing on yet – all of Fódlan would know within a day if she had, and Felix would never hear the end of it. He doesn’t know who she’s into either, but like recognizes like, and if he’s right, hopefully his message is blunt enough to end the conversation.

  


> Ashe (2:14pm): Hi Felix! Hope your travels are going well!
> 
> Ashe (2:17pm): The studio right by the shelter is holding metalworking classes starting next month: Wednesdays at 6 and Sundays at noon. They’ve got signup sheets on the door, do you want me to write you in?

> Felix (7:31pm): Is one class on both days, or only Wed/only Sun each week?

Felix actually has several more questions about the class, but Ashe is being considerate enough offering to sign him up, so he can wait and find out on his own. After a few minutes with no response, he sends a follow-up so Ashe won’t be kept waiting even if Felix is busy for the rest of the night.

  


> Felix (7:35pm): If it’s both days, no. If it’s either one, yes, and I don’t care which day. Thanks for telling me about it, it sounds interesting.

  


The last of his notifications are from the group chat he shares with Sylvain, Ingrid, and Dimitri. Ingrid has sent a flood of pictures documenting her and Dorothea’s sightseeing adventures – Dimitri’s been diligently replying to each and every one of them, but Sylvain’s been uncharacteristically quiet, especially compared to how many texts he’s sent Felix. There’s only a “u both look like ur having a ton of fun!! can’t wait to hear all abt it when ur back <3” and a few emoji reactions, not a single witty comment to be seen.

It’s possible Sylvain really does want to wait to meet Ingrid in person, considering how little they’ve seen each other lately, but Felix is still worried it’s because he’s overworking or exhausted, or both.

He decides to just say as little as possible about the phone call and the selfie in favor of texting Sylvain back faster – the earlier he responds, the earlier Sylvain will go to bed. Hopefully.

  


> Felix (7:45pm): Human snores aren’t cute. It was probably one of the cats you were hearing.
> 
> Felix (7:45pm): The outfit is fine. How did the meeting go?
> 
> Felix (7:47pm): I am eating, waiting for takeout to be ready right now. Besides, if you force fed me I’d have to find a way to force you to sleep. Don’t stay up so late tonight.

  


Felix pauses, still not quite sure what to say to Sylvain’s thoughts on the lonely emptiness of the apartment. There’s not much he can do to help from across the country, and just commenting on the cats and ignoring that part of the conversation feels too cold.

Of course, because this is the worst possible moment to leave Sylvain hanging for another twenty minutes, it’s also the moment that his food is ready.

After Felix pays, he lingers in the lobby for a few more moments to send one more text. The host almost immediately starts clearing her throat, but he ignores her – so what if he’s blocking one of the doors? It’s not like there’s a huge line of customers, or any line for that matter.

  


> Felix (7:54pm): Bad timing, food’s ready now. I’ll respond to the rest when I’m back at the hotel

  


On the walk back, the spicy smell wafting up from his food reminds him that Dedue was supposed to be coming over sometime this week to cook with Sylvain. Had that already happened? If not, maybe it’ll make the apartment feel less empty when he does visit.

By the time Felix gets back in his hotel room, Sylvain still hasn’t responded, not even a singular emoji of acknowledgment, which is…concerning. Sylvain’s usually never far from his phone, and combined with his lackluster response to Ingrid…

Well, there’s no sense in overreacting before he knows what’s going on. He’ll send his last few messages and eat dinner first, and if Sylvain hasn’t texted back by the time he’s done, Felix will just call him…never mind that it’s supremely awkward to call twice in two days.

  


> Felix (8:22pm): Back now.
> 
> Felix (8:22pm): Cute picture, and sorry about the apt. Hopefully cooking with Dedue will help, if you haven’t already done that.
> 
> Felix (8:24pm): If you want more company I’m sure Ashe would come visit. He misses the cats. Or obviously Dimitri.
> 
> Felix (8:25pm): Or Annette and Mercedes.

  


Fuck, he’s rambling now. Time to wrap it up.

  


> Felix (8:27pm): Point is, feel free to invite over whoever you want.

  


Food on one side of the desk and laptop on the other, Felix opens up his notes on the case, making a mental list of what still needs to be done tonight.

It’s hard to focus when he can’t stop thinking about Sylvain, though. His eyes keep drifting to his phone, waiting for it to light up with a notification.

After a torturous few minutes, it finally does, and Felix almost knocks the food all over the floor in his haste to grab it.

  


> Sylvain (8:39pm): hey hey sry for the delay! i was
> 
> Sylvain (8:39pm): working on a project u might say
> 
> Sylvain (8:40pm): and im glad i dont need to pray
> 
> Sylvain (8:40pm): for u to eat some real food today

> Felix (8:41pm): Wow. I didn’t realize I was speaking with a poet laureate.

> Sylvain (8:42 pm): hahaha now that ur sufficiently annoyed by my awful rhymes, u won’t be more annoyed by me saying:
> 
> Sylvain (8:42pm): it was only a cat snoring if u count as a cat, Fe :3

> Felix (8:43pm): You’re right, the rhyming is worse. But only just barely.

> Sylvain (8:43pm): anyway! meeting was fine, i got assigned as the lead editor, which ive only done for bernie so…idk how to feel abt it bc i HIGHLY doubt this lady is as good as her
> 
> Sylvain (8:45pm): and since ur eating i guess i will have to try my best to sleep at a normal time…tho im not averse to u ‘forcing’ me to go to bed ;););)

  


…Well. Felix only meant that he’d ask Annette or Mercedes to pester Sylvain about sleeping if Sylvain asked Glenn to pester him about eating, but the winky faces have him imagining something much more interesting.

He wouldn’t be averse to it either, if it meant something like pinning Sylvain to his bed and bringing him to the edge over and over again, winding him up so thoroughly that he can’t help but pass out after he finally comes. Even better if Felix gets to hold him afterwards, and if Sylvain feels safe enough to sleep through the night without waking up for once.

…But, since it doesn’t mean that, Felix has just wasted five minutes fantasizing about it when he could have been working or responding to Sylvain’s messages.

  


> Sylvain (8:47pm): dedue is coming over tomorrow! itll be fun for sure, but im not sure it will help with the general vibe of the apt? since hes still going to leave at the end of the night u know
> 
> Sylvain (8:48pm): and thank u for the offer but. the person i want to invite over is currently unavailable :((((

  


The last message solidifies just how impossible the fantasy is, and Felix suddenly feels unreasonably irritated – mostly with himself.

Why did he say Sylvain could have ‘anyone he wanted’ over? And why is he so curious about who Sylvain wants to invite when he knows it will just upset him?

Ugh. It’ll only distract him for the rest of the night if he doesn’t ask.

  


> Felix (8:55pm): Even if she’ll never be as good as Bernie, she’ll get much closer to that quality with you working on it. Is it a lot more work to be the lead editor?
> 
> Felix (8:57pm): Why are they unavailable?

> Sylvain (8:58pm): aww thanks!!! i feel very touched…it’s mostly bernie who makes it good but if u think my editing helps that much…
> 
> Sylvain (8:59pm): well u don’t give compliments lightly so
> 
> Sylvain (8:59pm): thanks Fe <3
> 
> Sylvain (8:59pm): and hmmm well
> 
> Sylvain (9:00pm): this person is very busy with work bc theyre much more dedicated to their job than me
> 
> Sylvain (9:00pm): and also they r currently in another city
> 
> Sylvain (9:01pm): …which happens to be in adrestia
> 
> Sylvain (9:02pm): ……and starts with an h

  


…Oh.

It’s _him_?

Sylvain would really rather have Felix over than anyone else? Even though they live in the same house and see each other all the time…?

That’s – that’s basically the same as admitting he misses Felix, which is… _so_ much to handle, given that Felix just steeled himself for hearing about Sylvain’s desire to see literally anyone else.

Fuck. His heart is racing so fast he can feel his pulse in the pads of his fingers. The heart emoji certainly isn’t helping either.

  


> Sylvain (9:04pm): ………ur not typing so im wondering if that was enough hints or not??

  


It takes Felix much longer than usual to compose a response with all the corrections he has to make, hands still shaking with exhilaration.

  


> Felix (9:09pm): I don’t think it counts as ‘inviting me over’ since it’s my hose?

  


And of course, there’s still a typo which he only notices after he’s already hit send. Groaning, Felix spins in the desk chair and launches himself onto the bed, stuffing his face into the comforter.

  


> Sylvain (9:10pm): UR HOSE
> 
> Sylvain (9:12pm): FELIX I AM DYING U HAVE KILLED ME
> 
> Sylvain (9:13pm): please do tell me more about ur hose!!!!!!
> 
> Sylvain (9:13pm): ahahaha fuck my stomach hurts now from laughing

  


Felix can’t help but laugh too, not at the ridiculous typo, but from imagining Sylvain’s cackling when he gets this kind of goofy-tired. Sometimes it goes on for so long he starts wheezing, which makes him laugh even more, which turns the wheezing into honking, which only perpetuates the vicious and adorable cycle of laughter.

If a typo is enough to amuse Sylvain to that extent…well, maybe Felix should stop proofreading his texts so carefully.

  


> Felix (9:15pm): It wasn’t *that* funny. But I’m glad you were amused :)
> 
> Felix (9:15pm): I have to get back to work though, need to finish everything before the end of the week if I don’t want the trip to get extended.
> 
> Felix (9:16pm): Go to bed soon and catch up on sleep.

> Sylvain (9:17pm): i will try! u shouldnt stay up too late either tho!!!
> 
> Sylvain (9:18pm): gnight Fe <3 sweet dreams!!!

> Felix (9:18pm): Good night, Sylvain. Sleep well.

  


The smile on Felix’s face doesn’t fade at all while he works, nor even when he finally falls into bed around midnight, exhausted from the long day. His cheeks are hurting with it, but it can’t be helped – the high of making Sylvain laugh and knowing that he wishes Felix were home is simply too exhilarating.

Friday can’t come soon enough.

—

Felix wakes with a start from pleasant dreams when his first alarm goes off. The details are already fading, but he remembers a flash of red hair, soft brown eyes crinkled with laughter, then dark and shining with lust. The feeling of running his fingers over warm freckled skin, and a deep sense of _home_.

The hotel room is intensely disappointing in comparison.

For a moment, Felix considers just going back to sleep and hoping that the dream will continue, but if he dawdles for too long and gets behind schedule, he might not be able to go home on Friday, which is completely unacceptable.

Actually, another unacceptable thing is that the dream had been soundless, and therefore lacking Sylvain’s voice…not calling him last night has left Felix feeling a little deprived.

Also, now that he thinks of it – yesterday was technically the first day since Sylvain moved in that he hadn’t heard his voice at all, and it sadly won’t be the last. Sylvain was already shocked enough the first time he called, and Felix doesn’t trust himself to not blurt out something ridiculously sappy, or – possibly worse – repress the sappiness so hard that he ends up swinging around to rudeness instead.

Though – he does have 15 minutes until he really has to get out of bed. There’s no sense in making himself wait until Friday night to listen to Sylvain again when there’s a perfectly good solution at his fingertips.

Unlocking his phone, Felix turns off his second and third alarms before opening up @galoot_of_ill_repute’s user profile, blood thrumming in anticipation.

There aren’t any new posts since the audio he’d listened to on Saturday, which is disappointing but probably for the best. He’s immensely curious to know if Sylvain’s been recording anything while he’s been in Hrym, but he doubts he’d be able to resist the temptation of listening to something new, regardless of its length and potential to destroy his schedule.

For now, Felix just checks the length of the posts he hadn’t listened to, skimming the summaries and looking for the shortest one, which ends up being a 13-minute script fill about old friends reconnecting at a mutual friend’s wedding.

It’s probably impossible to beat the quality of the script Sylvain wrote himself, but Felix supposes it’s still worth a try. It is Sylvain, after all – even if the writing is terrible, his noises of pleasure are definitely hot enough to make up for it.

Rolling onto his stomach, Felix clicks the link, smushing his face into the pillow to achieve optimal listening focus.

“Hey all, hope you’re doing well. I know it’s been a while since the last post, but things have been a little crazy on my end, haha.”

Just two sentences in and Felix is already feeling more relaxed, tension he didn’t know he had easing out of him as he sinks further into the bed.

“Today I’m doing a fill for user SpeedReid. They requested me specifically for some reason, so…hope I do right by your script, SpeedReid!” Sylvain says, sounding genuinely confused at being requested, which is…quite honestly ridiculous.

‘For some reason’ _…_ how does he not know that it’s because his voice is amazing?

Felix is biased, sure, but even from a purely technical standpoint, he thinks most strangers would find it objectively pleasant, and Sylvain’s always been good at reading aloud, making stories come alive with the emotion infused in his words.

And while he doesn’t particularly like to imagine it, Felix also knows he can’t be the only person in the world who wants to listen to Sylvain getting himself off – it’s simply undeniably hot.

So… _of course_ this person would request him to read their script.

He wishes there was some way to boost Sylvain’s confidence without revealing himself…maybe he could create an account to comment on the posts? Sylvain already gets plenty of compliments in the comments, though – how much would one more anonymous reply help? It’s something to consider later, but for now, Felix focuses back on the audio.

The murmuring voices of a crowd begin fading in slowly, setting the scene without being jarring. It sounds like much too large of a wedding for Felix’s tastes.

“Excuse me…pardon me, sorry, trying to get through,” Sylvain says, sounding rushed, like whatever he’s looking for will disappear if he doesn’t get there in time. “On your left…’scuse me… _whew, finally!_ ” He mutters the last bit under his breath, then clears his throat and takes a steadying breath before continuing.

“Hey! There you are, I’ve been looking for you all night!” he exclaims, then sucks in a sharp breath through his teeth. “Oh, shit, I didn’t mean to startle you – now you’ve got wine all over your clothes.”

There’s a clink of a glass being set down. “I am so sorry. I promise I’ll pay for the cleaning…ah, what a way to reintroduce myself, haha. Haven’t seen you for years and I’m already making a mess of things.” Sylvain laughs a little self-deprecatingly, then pauses for the illusion of dialogue.

So far, Felix isn’t too fond of the way this script mirrors Sylvain’s lack of confidence from the intro – maybe even induced it? – but he’s hardly a minute in and too eager to hear more of Sylvain to stop now.

“Oh! Haha, well, I’m glad I haven’t already scared you away then.” Sylvain says, a touch of nervousness coming through his otherwise flirtatious tone.

“It’s really good to see you too – you look great. Seriously. The years have been good to you. Even the wine stains don’t make you any less gorgeous – in fact, I wouldn’t be surprised if it became a new fashion trend. And here I am, unremarkable as always.”

Again with the self-deprecation – Felix kind of wants to slap the writer of this script. It’s hopefully just acting, but Sylvain still sounds sincere enough that it hurts to hear him talk like this.

Feeling irritated and protective, Felix can’t help but fill in his own reply in the pause Sylvain leaves for the other character’s response.

“Shut up,” he mumbles. “You’re amazing, so stop talking like that.”

It feels strange, flushing his cheeks hot with embarrassment, but it does relieve a little of his frustration. If only he could work up the nerve to tell Sylvain things like that in real life.

“Hah, really?” Sylvain replies after a moment. “I just feel older, not more handsome. But…thanks.” His voice is a little rough, and he clears his throat before continuing, putting on that tone of fake-nonchalance he always uses to deflect.

“So, how have things been? Enjoying the night so far? Gotta say, I didn’t think you’d be here…I thought you weren’t keeping in touch with the happy couple these days. Or, y’know, any of our old friend group. I – _we_ really missed you, though, so I’m glad you are. Here, that is.”

There’s a pause, then Sylvain gasps sharply in surprise, and Felix shivers at the sound, hips rocking into the sheets.

“W-what? You only decided to come because… _I_ was going to be here?” The disbelief in Sylvain’s voice is palpable, all shaky breaths and wavering words.

“You…missed me too, and…me _most of all_? Holy shit. I-I don’t know what to say, this, this is – mmmmmfffh!” His sentence cuts off with a drawn-out, muffled moan, then – _fuck_ – hurried, enthusiastic kissing noises.

Felix swears softly, stifling a moan of his own as he thrusts his hips against the bed. How many times has he dreamed of breaking Sylvain out of his anxious ramblings with a kiss? So. Fucking. Many.

Clutching the pillow tight in a poor approximation of pulling Sylvain closer, Felix imagines straddling him, grinding into his lap fully clothed and devouring his mouth like it’s the end of the world.

The delicious friction of fabric against his cock as he ruts into the sheets only intensifies the illusion, and Sylvain’s desperate, needy sounds shoot through his body like lightning, electrifying every nerve.

Would Sylvain really be this noisy just from kissing? Or is he imagining something more intense like Felix is…fingers tugging on his hair, lips pressing against his neck, hands palming his perfect ass, legs wrapped around his waist? Whatever it is, it must be working for him, because when he finally breaks the kiss to speak, he sounds _debauched_ , voice wobbly and breathless.

“Oh fuck,” Sylvain gasps. “Please, tell me this is real, you have _no_ idea how long I’ve wanted to kiss you – hah! Ngh, yes, okay, we should definitely take this somewhere more private…Hmm, what’s that?”

The sound of footsteps echoing on a hard floor fills the silence as Sylvain pauses for a response.

“…You want to find a bathroom to ‘soak the wine stains, and maybe soak my dick too’?” Sylvain emphasizes the phrase so the air quotes are obvious, makes a strangled choking sound, then promptly bursts into laughter.

“That’s – hahahaha, fuck, I can’t – !” He’s cackling so hard he starts to wheeze, and Felix grins, cheeks flushed with affection and arousal. This is the kind of laughter he was imagining last night when Sylvain cracked up at his typo, and hearing it for real rather than just from his memory makes Felix’s chest feel unbearably full.

Sylvain takes a few deep breaths to calm himself, then tries to start reading the script again. “Whew, okay, I think – pfffft, hahaha, nope! Still – ahahahaha – not…done yet!” The line wasn’t even that funny, but Sylvain’s giggling is so bright and contagious that Felix can’t help but start laughing too.

It takes at least a full minute for Sylvain to fully catch his breath, and Felix is still snickering when he finally speaks again.

“Wow, I’m so sorry about that, SpeedReid,” he says, clearing his throat when his voice comes out croaky. “I must be in a weird mood today. I’ll ask if you want me to edit out my unseemly laughter later – so listeners, if you’re hearing this part, rest assured it’s author-approved! Anyway, we continue.”

Again, of course the author wanted to keep it in…who _wouldn’t_ want to listen to Sylvain laughing?

“Mmm, yes, when you put it like that…the sooner we find a bathroom, the better. Lead the way, darling.” Sylvain’s tone of voice drops back into ‘lusty’ so quickly that it takes Felix by surprise, but it’s still missing the breathiness that seems to distinguish his acting from actually touching himself and reacting to how good it feels.

The sound of footsteps from earlier starts again, increasing in speed, then there’s the click of a door opening, the rattle of it closing, and then a loud thump – which, if Sylvain’s broken moan is any indication, is the sound of him being slammed up against said door.

“Goddess, you’re a tease,” Sylvain groans. “Pinning me like this and then stopping just before kissing me…I’ll just have to – mmmmh! Fuck, you feel so good pressed up against me, this feels like a dream…love how you just, hah, just grab me by the hips and – ngggh, _yes_ – put me where you want me.”

Sylvain’s breathing hard now between kisses, slipping back into the fantasy, and Felix’s simmering arousal bursts back into a roaring flame. It’s just _so_ much better when it’s obvious Sylvain’s enjoying himself.

“Ah, ah, ah, sneaky hands there,” Sylvain says after a minute, chuckling breathlessly. “While I’m definitely not complaining, you’re technically the one covered in wine. So I think – mmmm – priorities dictate _I_ get to undress _you_ first. But I guess I, hah, can’t stop you from teasing my cock through my pants while I do, hmm?”

There’s a soft rustling of fabric, and Felix moans, suddenly remembering the selfie Sylvain sent yesterday.

Rutting against the bed in time with Sylvain’s stuttered breaths, he imagines tugging the hem of that carefully pressed button-up out from the waistband of Sylvain’s slacks, desperate to slide his hands under it and feel the warm skin at the small of Sylvain’s back... _fuck_.

Is it possible to open the photo app without interrupting the audio?

…It is indeed possible.

Although, maybe Felix should pretend like it isn’t, given the way his hips jerk against the bed and he almost comes in his pants immediately upon opening the selfie. Gasping, he rolls onto his back, feeling much too warm to be wearing clothes, cock throbbing from the loss of stimulation.

As Sylvain kisses and moans his way through undressing his imaginary partner, Felix pushes down his pajama pants and underwear in one go, shivering at the feeling of cool air against the pre-come smeared all over his cock and stomach.

“Mmm, now that I’ve unwrapped my present…I wanna taste you,” Sylvain rumbles, voice thick with desire.

Any other time, he’d love to imagine Sylvain’s incredible mouth wrapped around him, swallowing him down, but right now Felix can only think about tasting Sylvain instead…damn that incredible, infuriating outfit.

He wants those ridiculous slacks pushed down just enough to free Sylvain’s cock – so he can dig his fingers into the fabric stretched tight over Sylvain’s thighs as he spends hours, days, _years_ on his knees, using his lips and teeth and tongue to find every single way Sylvain can fall apart under his touch.

And thank the goddess, because for once the script writer has deigned to give Sylvain something nice. There’s a thump once again, and then – “Ahhhh, fuck, _yes_!” he gasps. “Okay, yeah, it – nnnnngh – it can be your turn so long as, ah, ahhh! So long as you don’t stop, your mouth is incredible, I, I can’t – please!”

Sylvain’s noises are _delicious_ , wild and uninhibited, every sound sending shocks of pleasure down Felix’s spine. The fantasy of sucking Sylvain off is almost perfect – except that there’s nothing filling his mouth, nothing hitting the back of his throat, no hands in his hair clutching tighter the more pleasure he gives.

For the second time that week, Felix wishes he’d anticipated being this sex-crazed and packed accordingly. But as it is, he has no toys to stuff his throat with, so his fingers will have to do.

Shoving three fingers in his mouth, Felix presses down on the back of his tongue, and – oh _yes,_ this definitely works.

Almost immediately, he falls into a haze of desire, the world narrowing until there’s nothing but pleasure. There’s only Felix’s hand on his cock, jerking faster and sloppier the more Sylvain loses himself; only Sylvain’s shuddering moans and the way Felix’s fingers automatically fuck into his throat like _he’s_ the one dragging these noises out of Sylvain.

Like he’s really on his knees, cock-drunk and drooling for Sylvain…only ever Sylvain.

“Ngggh, yes, just – _hah_ – just like that,” Sylvain says, voice rough and breathless. “Your noises are so fucking hot, feels so good when you – ahhh, oh _fuck_! – when you moan around my cock like that. You’re enjoying this...nghhhh, so much, just as much as I am, aren’t you?”

_Yes,_ Felix thinks, desperately moaning around his fingers.

“Ohhh, _fuck_ , you’re – ah, ahh! – you’re touching yourself, that’s so – ngggh, shit, so hot! You’re incredible, so good – mm, fuck, I’m close! Hah…can I –? I wanna, fuck, wanna watch you swallow…”

Pulling his fingers out, Felix gasps, “Yes, come in my mouth, fuck, _Sylvain_!”, and shoves them back in, thrusting in at each of Sylvain’s moans, trying to stave off his own orgasm so they can come together.

“So close, fuck, you’re taking me so well, nghhh, so amazing – _yes_ , hah, like that, please, gonna come down your throat…oh _fuck_ – ah, ahhh, ahhh, _ahhhh_!”

Just imagining Sylvain filling his mouth with come is enough to send Felix hurtling over the edge with a muffled shout, waves of pleasure coursing through him with each of Sylvain’s stuttered moans, cock pulsing and painting the sheets white.

It takes him a minute to come back to himself, listening to Sylvain’s labored breathing as he recovers.

Pulling his fingers out of his mouth, Felix groans – in frustration, now that he’s emerged from the fog of arousal. He’s made an absolute mess of the bed – the pillow is drenched in drool, to say nothing of the come on the sheets, and it seems incredibly rude not to at least rinse everything before leaving it for the housekeeping staff to replace.

Sylvain interrupts his thoughts with a sleepy-sounding hum. “Mmm, so, there’s technically two more lines of the script…but I’m frankly too wiped to give them a serious read, so…I’ll just say them and try not to laugh like a maniac again.”

He pauses for dramatic effect, then says, completely deadpan, “Wow, that was amazing, babe. You really know how to soak a guy’s dick.”

Understandably, it only takes him a couple seconds to lose the battle with laughter. “Pfffft…ahahaha, oh my goddess! I just, ahahaha, do not get how that’s supposed to be sexy!”

Felix can’t help but laugh too, feeling soft and affectionate. The writing definitely leaves a lot to be desired, but he’d honestly listen to a hundred terrible scripts just to hear Sylvain like this.

“Sorry, SpeedReid. Different strokes for different folks I guess,” Sylvain says, still chuckling a little. “Hope you and the listeners enjoyed it anyway, despite my blaspheming of the source material! Catch y’all next time.”

The audio clicks off, and Felix sighs, lingering in bed for another minute to enjoy the mood before he has to clean up and start the day.

_Only ever Sylvain_ …it sounds ridiculously sappy now, but Felix supposes it is an accurate representation of his feelings. Even if they’re never anything more than friends, Felix wouldn’t trade that friendship for the world.

Sylvain is simply…irreplaceable.

—

Time starts passing strangely after that. Felix is swamped with work, feeling especially motivated to finish it to ensure he can go home on time, and Sylvain is busy with editing, Dedue, and more editing, so they only have time to exchange a few texts – but hopefully the crunch time will be worth the reward of the coming weekend.

For Felix, the hours fly by in a flurry of paperwork and case notes, thoughts of Sylvain ever present but not a distraction, and before he knows it, it’s already late morning on Thursday – time to meet Glenn and Holst for lunch.

The restaurant is already packed by the time Felix arrives just before noon, but luckily Holst’s shock of pink hair makes it easy to spot him despite the crowd. They’ve managed to snag a window booth, sun glinting off the metallic details of Glenn’s bionic arm, and they’re so engrossed in their conversation that they don’t even notice Felix until he’s sliding onto the bench across from them.

Glenn greets him with a two-fingered salute, but doesn’t have time to say anything before his fiancé butts in, loud as ever.

“Oh, Felix! Hello! Good to see you buddy, it’s been too long!” Holst exclaims. He holds his hand out for a fist bump, and Glenn mirrors the movement with a smirk.

Felix rolls his eyes, indulging Holst first. “You’d better not zap me with that thing,” he says to Glenn, jerking his chin towards his brother’s outstretched silver fist. It’s not an unreasonable concern. Glenn loves making strange modifications to his arm and pranking people with them – Felix himself has fallen victim to the static shock handshake and water-gun wrist more times than he can count.

“I may, I may not,” Glenn says, still grinning mischievously. “You’ll just have to find out, won’t you.”

Sighing, Felix holds out his fist across the table. Glenn meets him with a firm tap, and he feels nothing but the cool metal against his knuckles – apparently he has been spared today.

“See? That wasn’t so bad,” Glenn laughs. “But you’ll have to thank the big guy here for saving you from certain doom.”

Holst nods, beaming. “I said it would be rude and mean to prank you when we haven’t seen you for almost a year!”

“And you would be correct,” Felix says, nodding approvingly – which only increases the wattage of Holst’s grin.

Holst may be irritating sometimes, but he does always have good intentions. And he makes Glenn happy, which is all that really matters.

“Ah, you two are no fun,” Glenn says, poking Holst’s arm with a mock pout. “So, Fe, what have you been up to for these long, looooong 11 months?”

The server interrupts them with a round of iced water, ready to take their orders, which sparks the usual mini-argument about whether Glenn should be allowed to order the same dish literally every time they go out to eat. It’s more playful than heated, like an old married couple who’ve been having similar disagreements for years, so Felix doesn’t mind – especially since it gives him a few minutes to think over what he wants to say about the past year.

With Glenn and Holst, It’s always best to provide them with as little detail as possible and get them talking about themselves, lest they latch onto some random thing Felix says and pester him about it for the rest of lunch, or possibly eternity. The consequences of Felix’s worst slip-up still haunt him to this day: years ago, Felix had offhandedly mentioned that living in such a big apartment alone felt strange – that was the official beginning of Holst’s matchmaking obsession. Thank the goddess Hilda wasn’t here today.

Eventually, orders are decided upon, and the conversation comes back to Felix’s life.

“I’ve just been working, mostly,” he says. “A new gym opened up by the office, been taking kendo classes there. Annette’s coffee shop is doing well, I go there most mornings and whenever she has open mic night…what else.”

Felix pauses. The final piece of news is the most important update in his life, but it feels dangerously close to pestering territory. Though, it’s not like he’s told Glenn about his feelings…It’ll probably be fine.

“Oh, and Sylvain’s living at my place now.” Felix stares into his drink, hoping any emotions showing on his face can be disguised by the lack of eye contact.

Glenn huffs, shaking his head. “Finally.”

Felix looks up, eyes wide. Surely Glenn doesn’t mean “finally” as in “it’s about time you two lived together”? He can’t have been that obvious already.

“You know, Dad’s been offering him a place to stay for years now, but he always said there was ‘no point.’ But better late than never, I suppose.” Glenn sighs, and Holst rests a comforting hand on his arm. “I’m just glad he left that hellhole.”

Oh. That kind of “finally.”

“I didn’t know about that,” Felix says, as steadily as he can manage.

He should be relieved that his Glenn hasn’t pinpointed his crush on Sylvain with scary efficiency, but his brother’s words have conjured a cold realization that drowns out everything else.

When they were young, Felix knew that Sylvain and Miklan didn’t get along, but in his innocence he always assumed Sylvain’s fights with his brother were the same as his own fights with Glenn – upsetting but ultimately easy to forgive.

It wasn’t until Sylvain left for college and dropped off the face of the earth for a few months that Felix truly understood the severity of Sylvain’s family situation – Felix had texted Sylvain more and more frantically until he finally returned over break, arriving at Felix’s house with a tearful apology and overdue explanation.

Remembering the details even now threatens to choke him with emotion, and Felix blinks hard, trying to swallow down the lump in his throat.

Before that day, at least Felix had the excuse of ignorance, but it’s been more than ten years since then, and not once did Felix explicitly offer him a place to stay, a way to escape his family, before Sylvain showed up on his doorstep.

Of course, he would never have turned Sylvain away, not even when he was living in a cramped dorm room or a tiny apartment with Ingrid, but still…Felix knows by now that Sylvain needs words – needs verbal reassurance that he is wanted, needs to be reminded that asking for help is not an inconvenience.

His father offered those words, and Felix did not.

Fuck.

The guilt from the other day floods back in full force, and Felix suddenly feels nauseous, the smell of food inside the restaurant turning his stomach. Lurching out of his seat and toward the door, he ignores Glenn and Holst’s concerned looks, muttering something about needing fresh air and desperately hoping they won’t follow him.

Belatedly, Felix realizes the muggy downtown air probably won’t help much at all, but he heads outside anyway, leaning against the front wall of the restaurant and sliding down it until he’s sitting on the sidewalk.

The city is bright and loud – usually something Felix does not appreciate – but right now the constant buzz of noise is surprisingly helpful for pulling himself out of his spiralling thoughts. After a few minutes of focusing on his breathing, he feels much steadier, almost ready to head back inside.

As Felix pulls out his phone to check the time, he’s struck by a sudden urge to call Sylvain, so strong that it surprises him – but it’s the middle of the day, Sylvain is probably working, and Felix doesn’t know what he’d even say.

Sorry for being a terrible friend? Not really the kind of thing you can bring up out of the blue.

Though there _is_ someone he can talk to who will hopefully ease his mind.

  


> Felix (12:06pm): When you were living with my father, did you know he offered Sylvain a room at the house?

  


Dimitri responds within minutes – he must be on his lunch break too.

  


> Dimitri (12:09pm): Yes, I believe I even passed the message on to Sylvain several times, though he always declined, and there seemed to be no way to convince him. We were quite worried about him then. Why do you ask?

  


Goddess, Felix really _was_ the only one who didn’t try to help. His father, Dimitri, Glenn…he’s sure Ingrid did too – she of all people understood the complications of family.

  


> Felix (12:11pm): I…didn’t know. That he had offered.
> 
> Felix (12:11pm): Or that an offer needed to be made.

  


The typing indicator pops up, so Felix waits a bit for Dimitri’s response, but it keeps appearing and disappearing for so long that it’s clear he’s struggling with what to say. Understandable – Felix is too, but he’s just writing and rewriting his texts inside his head, where Dimitri can’t witness his indecision.

  


> Felix (12:16pm): You said Sylvain couldn’t be convinced.

  


Fuck. This is so hard to talk about, even over text – Felix’s hands won’t stop shaking as he types. At least he knows Dimitri will be honest with him.

  


> Felix (12:17pm): Would it have been different if I had asked him?

  


Dimitri’s typing is more constant now that he has a question to answer, and true to character, a full paragraph comes through a few minutes later.

  


> Dimitri (12:22pm): Hmm. I cannot be sure, but I do not think Sylvain would have accepted the offer from anyone, even you, Felix. I believe he still felt a sense of duty and responsibility towards his family despite what they put him through, and he may also have felt that he deserved the pain they caused him…a sentiment I understand well. In any case, I think he needed to come to the decision to leave in his own time – as you have reminded me, it is difficult to help someone who does not wish to be helped. But you should take comfort in the fact that when he did take that step, it was you who he came to first. He would not have done that if he did not trust you fully, and he would not stay with you unless he wanted to.

  


The wave of relief from Dimitri’s words is overpowering. He’s right – there’s truly no reason Sylvain would have to stay with Felix if he didn’t want to. Felix isn’t like Sylvain’s family – he isn’t blackmailing him or coercing him or guilting him into staying – and Sylvain’s job pays enough that he could easily afford a place of his own if he wanted one.

Also, in his emotional spiral, Felix had completely forgotten about their texts from the other day. Sylvain wanting to ‘invite him over’ further proves Dimitri’s point – not only does that imply Sylvain missed him, but also that he thinks of Felix’s apartment as his own home.

Felix almost laughs at the irony – all those years of talking Dimitri down from fits of irrational self-deprecation and blame, and now Dimitri is doing the same for him. Oddly proud, he types out a response before silencing his phone and heading back into the restaurant.

  


> Felix (12:25pm): You are the voice of reason today. Thank you.

  


When Felix gets back to their table, the food hasn’t even arrived yet. Glenn mouths _Okay?_ at him as Holst summarizes what he missed of their conversation, and he nods, truly feeling better after talking with Dimitri.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> NOW FEATURING A PERFECT RENDITION OF SYLVAIN'S SELFIE BY [MAGPIE](https://twitter.com/royalcorvids)!!!!!!
> 
> [ ](https://twitter.com/royalcorvids/status/1300911501054746631?s=20)
> 
> and, in an alternate universe where Felix is brave enough to immediately make it his phone background....
> 
> [ ](https://twitter.com/royalcorvids/status/1300911497523212291?s=20)
> 
> Click the images to find them on twitter and give them some love!! :D
> 
> "hose" was my own typo that made me laugh so hard I had to keep it, and it ended up influencing the tone of the entire chapter...happy accidents saving the day xD
> 
> also i made a [sylvix playlist](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/3TL9uvwqMf6X4rNQel2tEY?si=1htTumQ6SFSFc0aD2gfOtA) :D
> 
> edit: the next update will probably be a while away as I'm focusing on Sylvix Week next!! but if you are craving sylvix modern aus, i highly recommend these - they have inspired me so much!!
> 
> \- [The Hangman](https://archiveofourown.org/works/21597499) \- a wrong number AU!  
> \- [LoneWolf is Live](https://archiveofourown.org/works/24166951) \- a streamer AU!  
> \- [if you're for real and I pretend](https://archiveofourown.org/works/23025505) \- childhood friends to estranged pining to lovers!
> 
> Thanks for reading, hope you enjoyed! Kudos and comments are <33333
> 
> Find me on twitter - [@nearlynemaria](https://twitter.com/nearlynemaria)


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